


Your Own Personal Jesus

by Jokitatu



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Apex Games are crooked, Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Bloodhound Needs A Hug, Bloodhound's Parents, Chronic Illness, Comedy, Corruption, Forced Colleagues to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Mentions of slight Alcohol Abuse, Mirage | Elliott Witt & Wraith | Renee Blasey Friendship, Mirage | Elliott Witt Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Tension, Trauma, and so does bloodhound, bloodhound is intimidating and mirage is into it but doesn't know it, caustic is a dick, mentions of death and dying, mirage has one brain cell, or Friends With Benefits, physical health issues, we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokitatu/pseuds/Jokitatu
Summary: Another day, another Game. Season Finale, nothing too extraordinary about that. Until Elliott is teamed up with a pair of extraordinary Legends.Well, there was nothing the life of the party, the fan-favorite, a.k.a Mirage couldn’t handle. Right?Miragehound fanfic where Bloodhound and Mirage end up knowing a lot of things about each other in the duration of one match. And beyond that.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100





	1. The Enigma

**Author's Note:**

> Please read this before reading!  
> Hi y’all! This is my very very first fan fiction ever, and the first time I've written something so long as this is going to be, in English !! I’m so nervous of posting this since I’ve never done any text like this before. So yah pls be gentle on me and I’ll buy you dinner ;D  
> When Apex Legends came out I fell in love with the game right away. It’s so addicting and the characters are so well made, Respawn really snapped for a battle royale game?? Especially the concept of Miragehound, they have this amazing chemistry and dynamic between them. Individually I love Bloodhound the most, they're so important to me and it was so fun writing them!  
> It's so funny how I started writing this before the release of their own cinematic lore (go check it out if you haven’t, it’s so beautiful.) and their video coincidentally matches with my headcanon I have in this, you’ll see what I mean when you get there.  
> I just love the idea of Bloodhound seeming terrifying af and secretly-sad-inside Mirage being all ‘’like, it scared me, but it also gave me, like, a boner at the same time’’  
> This was first supposed to be like a one-page shot of Bloodhound just walking and vibing on the dropship and Mirage swooning over it but things got out of hand and I ended up writing,, 28 pages of this in Google Docs in 4 days without sleeping while i was in the middle of some really urgent tasks and applications for schools and all this pandemic and quarantine going on i was wilding lmaooooo, ADHD really does that to you huh  
> I'm still contemplating on the title, I was just chilling and listening to the song and then I was like wait a minute this could work, but I'm trying to come up with something else perhaps (well i guess it's better than the version in my docs still named "Miragehound bullshit")  
> My first language isn’t English nor Icelandic so feel free to correct me! I will add translations if there ends up being a lot to translate!
> 
> (Also I think it's worth mentioning that Caustic is like, super rude and the biggest bitch in this so please don't kill me if he's your fave 🥺👉👈)
> 
> Enough rambling for now, enjoy and leave feedback if you want to, they mean a LOT to me especially as a first-time writer! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if the images I added to this show properly on mobile, let me know if they don't work on a PC either!
> 
> Content warning; mentions of dying and suffocating

* * *

* * *

_The bitter last conversation, words that were said too recklessly, too fast,_

_Running, running, running, hands digging into the ground…_

_Looking in the eyes of a beast, then a blast from the cursed weapon,_

_The hand of a dying man, caressing their cheek…_

_Then the coolant gas leak everywhere, on their face, inside their mouth, inside their throat, inside their lungs, spreading like a disease-_

_I can't reach for the mask, it's right there, why can't I reach for it? Oh gods I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breathe-_

_I'm so sorry Uncle, it's all my fault, please help me I can't breathe,_

_gods help me I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm dying,_

_I'm dying._

* * *

* * *

* * *

Artur !!!

Bloodhound's eyes shot open and they jumped to a sitting position, gasping for breath. They were soaked in sweat, heart still pounding from the nightmare, but it didn’t last too long - they were relieved to notice that their breathing was calming down, too. They looked over to their raven who had hopped on their bed, tilting head at them in a highly questioning way. No wonder why.

''Allt fínt, félagi", Bloodhound soothed the bird, petting its chin. The morning sun settled in the otherwise dim apartment and embraced it and Bloodhound with its luminosity and warmth, making the Legend raise their hand to protect their sensitive eyes. That was the sign to get up and about.

Bloodhound looked at their awfully disorganized bed sheet, along with the tossed blanket and pillow in the other side of the bedroom. The latter had apparently took their glass of water down from the nightstand with it as the hunter almost stepped on the broken glass, but they noticed just in time the glimmering shards on the dark mahogany floor as they reflected the light.

  
_No matter how much time passes, seems like the Allfather is never going to bless me with a good night's rest._   
  


* * *

**_Somewhere Else..._ **

* * *

The ajar window blinds did little to nothing to barricade the morning sun's rays from hitting Elliott’s eyes. He groaned, turning side and burying his face in the pillow. ''Please go back you annoying little flashlight...''

Elliott bolted up seconds later when the alarm clock started shrieking distorted like a banshee. Should get that one fixed one of these days, he said to himself still half asleep, crawling out of his king-sized bed. Had he taken anyone home last night? ‘’Good’’, he thought aloud when he found no other person in the bed. He wouldn’t had the time or the energy to deal with that.

Because it was Game day today. The end of the Season actually, which made it a more significant event than normally. Probably wasn't the wisest idea to go out the night before but hey, it was worth it. The first thing Elliott did was turning the radio on, he absolutely hated the silence and getting ready for big day would be absolutely dull if there wasn’t something to jam to. ‘’... _your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares..._ ’’, male voice carried out from the rusty machine. His headache wasn't too bad, a bit annoying for sure but a pair of painkillers will have that fixed in no time.

"Things on your chest, you need to confess…" Toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, Elliott mumbled the song from the radio. It coincidentally happened to be the same one from that he had been screaming in the karaoke last night with Octavio and Natalie, drunk off their asses. Ugh, he just hoped Renee hadn't gotten his drunken howling on tape. If she had, she would never stop showing it to him and everyone around her. Well, he did have a video of a crying Renee in her own intoxicated state petting a stray cat outside the club, sobbing how "she saw herself in him." That would even things out, he snickered while styling his iconic hair.

Elliott waltzed around in his apartment, making little bounces as he pulled his gear on. Fuck, was it 7 am already?! He had 45 minutes to be ready and set on the dropship. There were also the journalists circling in front of the ship like hungry lions, and Elliott being Mirage, he knew he was the Legend the press wanted every piece of. So he needed to book extra time for that too. Not that he didn't mind - he loved the fame, the headlines and the flashing cameras. Well, _Mirage_ did at least.

He grabbed a coffee mug from the table and from the lack of paying attention to his surroundings, he tripped graciously on the carpet and fell on his face. Swear words followed when the liquid was now all over the place, including his clothes. He had been holding on the cup like his life depended on it. In a way, it did. His Ma, his brothers and him had crafted it together when Elliott was just a kid. He cursed from the pain, but would rather have the hot coffee on his fingers than see the clay mug with the little dinosaur in pieces. He pointed at the carpet. ‘’Screw it, you’ll have to wait cleaning until the evening. Elliott out!" He exclaimed and stepped out the door, taking one last look of his chocolate brown curly locks from the mirror. Perfect.

* * *

After the media outside the Apex aerial facility had got what it wanted, Mirage burst through the ship's doors. "Gooooood morning, people!" His voice echoed on the aircraft.

"Still hangover, amigo?" Octane hollered at him from the other side of the ship while walking in the opposite direction, taking a sip from his Red Bull. Seriously, just where did the adrenaline junkie need the extra caffeine for?! "Speak for yourself, Silva!" Mirage threw finger guns at him. The daredevil acted as if Elliott had actually fired bullets in him and he dramatically threw himself back, hand clutching to his chest - Wattson had to catch him so he wouldn't drop for real, but they both fell like dominoes crashing onto Gibraltar who picked the two up and started spinning them in the air like a jungler. Mirage burst out laughing at the scene and moved on.

He settled into a spot near the windows to get a good view at the contestants. He could differentiate the more experienced veterans from the nervous novices just from the body language. For some, this was clearly their first Game after the long training sequence. Elliott felt sympathy for them. _Geez, I’d rather jump in there without the jet pack than go back to my first match. Great first impressions and all when I painted the ground with my breakfast first thing after landing._

Then, someone caught Elliott's eye. A contestant who was _not_ a rookie. _Aaand there they are,_ he rolled his eyes. 

Elliott didn’t want to but had to admit, every time Bloodhound entered the drop ship, his gaze lingered on them for a second more than he intended. They were often among the last Legends to hop on the ship, Crypto holding the last place usually. But that didn’t make them a slacker, instead quite the opposite; while their gait didn’t quite hold the exact type of swagger and flamboyance that Mirage had, something in the way Bloodhound carried themselves firm and sure in their own laid-back pace, almost suggested that everyone else in the room had arrived simply way too early. Just the way how they _walked_ with such grace and confidence provoked a slight tingle in Elliott’s stomach which he hadn’t experienced before by anyone else. He’d quickly interpreted the feeling as annoyance, something he could fix or make go away with his sarcastic comments towards the other person to boost his own ego. 

But still, the whole impression of the masked hunter always left Elliott confused in his head. They had exchanged a few words once before, not long ago, in the very same back of the drop ship further from other Legends. He recalled that moment from days back. It was a conversation which was first dominated by Mirage’s arrogant jokes and remarks about Bloodhound’s raven and their ability to eat or drink with their mask or something, he didn’t quite remember the topic anymore because his attention had mostly been focused on Bloodhound themself. At some point of the short chat, silence took over fairly fast from Elliott’s side. Whilst all the chaff, he had first noticed that Bloodhound was actually shorter than him. They had been casually leaning against the wall in the ship, arms crossed, staring Elliott intensively through the lenses of their mask, letting the taller man continue his bantering. Bloodhound hadn’t really said anything much, but their posture, their body language, just their whole overall _being_ started to make Elliott get stuck in his words and his stuttering took over. Bloodhound may had been shorter than him, but their confident way of presence certainly created an opposite illusion. The shifted energy had made Elliott nervously mess with his hair in poor effort to cover up his visible discomfort.

After a second or two of both being quiet, they had given out a laugh. Something that Mirage hadn’t expected. The sound of their amusement had hit Elliott like a brick in the face - the laughter was more like a chuckle, swift but it had a deep and rich accent like the rest of the way they spoke, with a hint of mechanical emphasis caused by the mask. Elliott didn’t know how to respond, so then it was he who was staring, but his gawk had just been filled with confusion.

_‘’Your mind is an imaginative one, that I must give to you’’_ , they had said delightfully. _‘’Charming as you are, trickster, I must disappoint you with the truth. No, my raven isn’t a ‘goth parrot’ in disguise and I do not own a second set of teeth and mouth hidden in the back of my neck for nourishing myself.’’_

After a moment, they eventually straightened their back and took a step closer to Mirage. _‘’However, one thing you did got correct.‘’_ they had said then with a darker, deeper tone, which had made Elliott gulp quietly. _‘’You do not know anything about me, Mirage.’’_ They had jabbed their index finger in Elliott’s chest which had made him actually take a step back. Bloodhound had then turned and made their way to the main section of the ship where most contestants had already been gathered, seeing who they were teamed up with and preparing for the big drop. The tip of their finger had remained its feeling on Mirage’s chest for a moment like a ghost, even after Bloodhound had already been long gone from his vision. He couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, let alone the Game, which had all been but a blur.

* * *

Elliott had simply been baffled from everything that happened in that short conversation. Even though it had already been many, many days, it was a feeling that was still on his mind to this day. One thing he was almost certain about was that it was a feeling of _frustration._ No one could just do that to him. He was always the one with the sassy remarks and the flirty attitude which left others either laughing, rolling their eyes or blushing. He hadn’t got what he had wanted with Bloodhound, though. Which he described as winning in his mind. Bloodhound had left _him_ dumbfounded.

He had gotten them laugh, though. But why had that ‘’win’’ left _him_ with this feeling of… warm irritation in his cheeks?

‘’Hey, pretty boy!’’

Elliott let out a small yelp and jerked up from his loose position as he startled when he felt a hand gripping on his shoulder from the same direction the voice came from. He recognized the source of the sound right away and relaxed again, with a frown and a sigh. ‘’Jesus, Renee, you gotta stop doing that every time you see I’m deep in a thought…’’

‘’Which is never?’’ The shorter woman said with a deadpan face, but flashed a grin afterwards. 

Elliott held up his finger and pointed it to Wraith, opening up his mouth to look overly-dramatic but before he could deliver his comeback thoroughly his friend stopped him mid-sentence. ‘’They just announced the teams.’’

‘’Are we on the same?’’

‘’Not this time.’’ the dark-haired Legend denied, with a brief but clear sound of disappointment in her voice. As much as Renee loathed Mirage’s worn one-liners and his extravagant manners, she wasn’t too serious about it. She genuinely enjoyed having him around, they liked to crack jokes together and make fun of each other. Her absolute favorite thing to do was to get pizza together after the matches. After everything she has been through in her life, she appreciates all the simple things. Elliott was her first friend, after all - the first person to actually reach out for her. To pull her out of her shell, anyway. And they were a good pair in the Ring, even though Wraith has had to literally carry his ass through more matches than Mirage is willing to admit of.

‘’Damn, would've been fun to wreak havoc together on the grand finale'', Elliott pouted. He then turned his head to the big announcement screens, where code names combined with pictures were flashing. Wraith was being teamed up with Lifeline and Pathfinder. An immediate smirk rose up to his face and he nudged her on the shoulder.

‘’Well, someone got lucky. Looks like it’s ya favorite nurse right there to save your day, Renee.’’

Wraith returned the nudge with a heavier shove. ‘’Will you shut up, jackass! I don’t have a favorite… anything…’’ she muttered with a red face, which was a very distinct contrast to her otherwise pale complexion. She quickly got quieter as a familiar, cheerful voice rang through the noise from all the competitors chatting with each other.

‘’Wraith! Looks like it’s you, me and the good ol’ Pathy today! Les’ go already girl, don’t wanna keep the poor thing waitin’!’’ Mirage saw Pathfinder in the distance, jokingly flashing a frowning emoticon on that weird little stomach-screen of his. He waved at him, even though the robot creeped him out just a bit.

Ajay's bubbly personality that shone like the brightest star in the solar system, in and out of the Ring, was something that everybody admired. Including Elliott. Her ever so enthusiastic and youthful attitude may fool some, but she was as skilled in battle as everyone else who’ve had years of training before her. And she was crucial in there with her healing ability. Elliott did not wonder for a second why Renee had gotten smitten with Lifeline, who had the natural talent of lifting everyone up.

‘’Go get ‘em, tiger!’’ Elliott called out to Wraith and saluted like a soldier, as Lifeline took the other woman’s hand and led her away. Wraith’s already flustered face only deepened its red hue. She turned her face to Mirage once more and mouthed him a ‘’fuck you’’ and gestured a ‘’I’m watching you’’-sign with her free hand. Lifeline, on the other hand, was completely clueless of everything, as she just always smiled to everyone around her. It made Elliott happy to see Wraith smiling as she shyly glanced at Ajay while they walked towards their third teammate. Her crush may be oblivious to it all, but it didn’t seem to matter to Wraith. As long as that smile with those adorable dimples landed on her, too.

Elliott just hoped he wouldn't meet Renee in the Ring today. It never felt good putting a bullet in your friend, no matter how artificial the bloodsport was made. He was never going to get used to it. But like every other Legend, he knew what he had signed up for. If you gave room for those kinds of thoughts, you were out.

When he noticed he was alone with his thoughts again, he quickly distracted himself and started actually searching for his name on the screen. It took some time, as there were a total 60 competitors listed. ‘’Let’s see, M, M, where’s that sweet M…’’ 

And there it was. Elliott's stomach twisted. ‘’Shit.’’

Speak of the devil.

* * *

**SQUAD NUMBER 16:**

**Bloodhound Caustic ** **Mirage**

* * *

Elliott stood there, with one hand on his hip and another scratching his stubble. He simply stared at those three names and pictures which each belonged to very different individuals - of which one had already occupied his mind more than they should have. Both Caustic and Bloodhound were the utmost secretive and had all sorts of layers wrapped around them, both physical and mental. But Caustic was an asshole about it. The middle-aged man built like a grizzly bear, seemed to hate everything and everyone, unless they had a part in his sick experiments in the Ring. And if they had, their role was _being_ _the experiment_ of his toxic gas traps. Not much is known of him - rumors tell he used to be a leading scientist on pesticide gases somewhere for the Frontier a long time ago, but something happened and the laboratory burned down. Only the man himself knows, and God forbid like Elliott was going to ever ask him. Not that he even cared, he mostly just tried to stay away from the gloomy eyesore who always seemed like he’d stuck his head into a beehive with his edgy comments about death being the true test and all that crap. Mirage had once asked him in the Apex Lounge if his favorite band was Linkin Park and the scowl he received was the most hideous he’d ever seen a human being do, nasty enough to give him nightmares.

Bloodhound, on the contrary… Like Elliott hadn’t already thought enough about them lately. Again, no-one knew pretty much anything about Bloodhound. Not if they had another name, where they came from, not even what their face looked like. The Legend was an enigma. Though something that was recognized more than better was their stunning skill and deadly accuracy in the Games. Along being one of the greatest sharpshooters on the Frontier, they are an excellent hunter and a master tracker. That knife of theirs had slipped into Mirage’s chest a few times on the battlefield and he had noted a foreign language they always seemed to murmur into their victims ears. He wondered how such a lethal Legend like them managed to make death so soothing, almost like a lullaby.

_"Your strength showed life, be proud."_

Mirage reminisced those words and that knife in his rib cage. The gloved hand holding the back of his neck, stroking it slightly as he had went into the oblivion and finally waking up in the recovery room.

What separates these two mysteries is that Caustic doesn’t leave his hatred unclear of anyone who tries to pry the slightest about him and his past. For Elliott, Bloodhound doesn’t seem to be the most people-person either. But as intimidating as they were, there’s something more human in them that Caustic could ever be.

One thing was certain; Elliott would gladly die rather in Bloodhound’s hands than suffocate slowly in Caustic’s gas traps. Even though you’ll wake up soon enough in the recovery quarters, the gas is the worst way to go in the Games. Well, after dying outside the Ring, which was basically burning alive.

Elliott took a deep sigh.

‘’Well. For what it’s worth, this is going to be an interesting last match of the Season.’’

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allt fínt, félagi - everything's fine, partner
> 
> I think I ship Wraith with Wattson more but Lifeline was so nice to write here ;_;


	2. Blessed Are The Peacemakers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! And clowns are the troublemakers 😳✊  
> The accidental biblical referencing didn't seem to stop yet :-D

* * *

There was no more time for daydreaming. It's Mirage time, he said to himself. Let's give the audience the show they want - the show they expect. He took a deep breath, put up his shining pretty face and paced forward to see where his two teammates were. He had lost sight of Bloodhound a bit earlier, when Wraith had spooked him out of his skin. Mirage groaned under his breath when he saw the large figure approaching him. There was no way Caustic could be left unnoticed, the man is like Moses parting the Red Sea but with people. Everybody naturally moves aside for him to make way, no one wants to be an inch too close to the scientist for their own good.

‘’Witt.’’

‘’Bulls-eye! You got my surname right? What’s yours?’’ Mirage snapped back. ‘’How’s it going anyway, old man? Buried any bodies lately?’’ The holographic trickster tried to make conversation in his sarcastic type of way. Caustic blatantly ignored him.

‘’I’m warning you, son. Do not get in my way. Especially with your senseless holograms, which nearly cost us the victory last time I was forced to have you as my teammate.’’ the older man cautioned.

He was referring to the previous time when they had been teamed up, back in King's Canyon before the Repulsor Tower's destruction shut off the Arena. Caustic had placed his traps in Bunker, where they were hiding. Mirage, who was on the other side of Bunker keeping watch, had thought he heard something so he had sent out a hologram to expose the potential enemy. The decoy had accidentally started running in the opposite direction, straight to where Caustic was carefully adjusting his last trap. The sprinting hologram’s footsteps had spooked the always-so collected scientist and before Mirage could warn him, Caustic was back on his feet and firing towards the sound of the hologram before he realized it was just a clone of his teammate. The bullets had just nearly missed the real Mirage, but Caustic was only concerned on the nearby squads possibly hearing the loud gunshots from his Devotion.

_‘’You absolute imbecile, dimwit, blockhead of a man, what the hell are you doing?! This isn’t the time for one of your foolish stunts!’’ Caustic had hissed at Mirage voice full of venom, quiet enough trying to not raise any more unwanted attention that they already had._

_‘’It was an accident! And if you’re so good at this as you claim to be, you old geezer, then maybe consider actually making sure before you start shooting like a madman that A, you’re facing an actual, living opponent on your firing range and B, that opponent isn't a teammate of yours!’’ Mirage had spat back._

_A friendly but hasty voice had cut in from their radio phones._

_‘’Am mighty sorry for disturbing your polite chit-chat brothers, but we’ve got company!''_

_Their third member, Gibraltar, had luckily been on Mirage’s team. He was a gentle giant, a man you could trust with your life. He’d been just outside the Bunker scouting for enemies, and Caustic’s thesis had became true. Two squads were approaching from different directions towards the Bunker, unquestionably after the source of the Devotion's loud gunshots._

_Gibraltar had arrived also physically between them in time, Mirage was just about to get a fist in the face from the furious Caustic. The third Legend separated the two troublemakers with his hands.''I'm afraid I don't know what is the deal between you two but now is not the time for that! Quickly, this way, I’ll leave them a parting gift from Gibraltar!’’_

_Caustic then settled for just growling at Mirage, who made a mocking face at him. They ran through a narrow passageway to a third hidden exit, as Gibraltar’s mortar strike bombarded the last remaining squads outside the Bunker and they were pronounced as the Champions of the Arena._

* * *

Elliott yawned. "That was like, uhhh, ages ago, so give me a break already. Besides, it was not my hologram who freaked out and almost got us all wiped out so shut it, grandpa."

One thing that was sure to get Elliott killed one of these days was his inability to keep his own mouth closed, in the Ring or outside of it. Especially around Caustic.

"Why you little degenerate, did your mother fail to teach you to show some respect for your elders or do I need to demonstrate, a lesson I will gladly be giving to the likes of you--"

Caustic grabbed Mirage from his scarf and lifted the full-grown man up in the air effortlessly. Competitors on the ship turned to see what was going on and a few gasps could be heard. However, Elliott didn't care about the attention nor the aftermath of what was about to happen. Now he was _angry._ Caustic had crossed the line, which was speaking ill about his mother.

Then, a loud **_thud._**

Just when Mirage was about to kick his leg in Caustic’s groin with full force, he was dropped on the floor, and a second after Caustic was on the floor as well after the sound of a hard blow in his back.

Caustic sounded like the hit had seriously blown the air out of his lungs, cursing while trying to gather himself up. It was a sight Elliott had never seen before, but it nevertheless brought satisfaction to him, before he even realized what just actually happened.

Elliott finally raised his head up to locate to whatever or whoever just got Caustic to his knees.

"Should have guessed that…"

Bloodhound stood before the two, adjusting their gloves from the punch. Mirage just stared at them on the ground, frozen. He blinked when the hunter turned their head to him, with those lenses focusing their attention fully on him. Suddenly that same weird tingly feeling of annoyance made its return inside Elliott again.

‘’Are you injured?’’ they asked him.

‘’I, uh, no, I don’t think so, I...’’ he stammered.

‘’Góður. It would be an undesirable challenge to have a wounded teammate before even landing on the Arena.’’ Bloodhound remarked.

In the meantime, Caustic had gotten himself up and he looked more frantic than ever. Just as he was swaying his clenched fist targeting the hunter who first seemed unaware to what was coming, they grabbed the swinging arm from wrist and twisted it to Caustic’s back while bending and pressing their knee to the back of the man's knee. Their left arm went under his armpit to seize Caustic's other shoulder. All in the blink of an eye, but it sure was a show to remember. No one has done anything like that before for Caustic.

‘’I highly recommend you to cool down and save your energy for the battle that’s laying below us, if you do not wish for the Officials to step in.’’

Bloodhound warned dryly at the mountain of a man, who now seemed even bigger in contrast to the hunter but was being talked down like bad-tempered child by a lecturing parent. Elliott was in awe how they managed to keep him locked like that and talk so steadily at the same time, even though the man so clearly had the advantage in physical size.

Caustic mumbled something through gritted teeth in disdain which made Bloodhound tighten their grip behind him. ‘’Pardon me?’’ They kept their composure but the tone was now more threatening.

They held Caustic restrained for a moment before they decided they had proved a point and let him go. Contestants were still staring at the scene, some amused, most shocked. But everybody were thinking the same thing - Bloodhound wasn't the one to be messed with.

* * *

**_APPROACHING DROP ZONE IN APPROXIMATELY FIVE MINUTES. ALL SQUADS ARE ADVISED TO PROCEED NEAR THE OPENING._ **

* * *

The silence was soon broken by the usual female-voiced announcement from the speakers. All competitors started to assemble as they were told to. Well, not everyone. Bloodhound, however, stood still. Mirage, who had picked himself up clumsily like a newborn fawn, didn’t dare to move past them so he just kinda waited for their approval to go. Caustic was already storming towards the opening, huffing. ‘’Let’s just do what I say and forget about this nonsense.’’

He was once more stopped by Bloodhound’s hand, and Elliott turned his face away as he was sure there was going to be a bloodbath now. _Are they crazy, reckless, just plain stupid or all three_ , Elliott fretted, waiting for the inevitable butchery.

Instead, nothing happened. Caustic’s eyes just went wide, glancing slowly from the red-colored glove seized on his shoulder to the Legend in the mask, astonished that someone had actually stepped up against him. Twice.

Bloodhound eyed both of Mirage and Caustic, taking turns.

‘’A warning. To you both. We are going to keep this professional and you are going to quit this childish act at once, or I will make it my personal matter to end it for you. Am I understood?’’ They forewarned, voice somewhere deep enough to make Caustic realize this was a battle he couldn't win, and the man stayed mute.

Bloodhound then let Caustic go for real this time, they raised their hand from the shoulder to a wave as a gesture for their two teammates follow them to the opening.

Mirage was baffled. _They've got the luck of the devil._ His frustration still wasn't gone - he felt defeated too, in a way. _I had it under control. Damn, they didn't have to make such a big show about it, everyone's still looking at us,_ he thought bothered.

He examined the daring Legend as they walked in front of him, with that determinate walk and eyes set on the objective. Elliott forcibly ignored the sensation their gut was sending somewhere just a tiny bit lower than was appropriate right now.

* * *


	3. Keep your wit, Witt

* * *

They had landed in Capitol City, or what was left of it. The tall constructions were still standing in all their might, but the skyscrapers had taken a toll in time from the blood sport's graphic nature. Surprisingly no other squad had landed in the same spot, even though it had became a popular looting area right away when they started having the Games on World's Edge. Caustic was in another building, not too far from Mirage and Bloodhound. The older man was nowhere to be seen, at least physically - they had their radiophones, but nothing had been heard from him since the beginning of the match.

Mirage was relieved. Even though Caustic deserved every inch of that… discipline Bloodhound had so graciously given him on the dropship, Elliott still feared that things would escalate if they were to be in the same space for all the match. So it was best to keep some distance between those two, just to let things cool off. Not that Bloodhound seemed to be the one in need of any calming down, the Legend hadn't even broken a sweat back there. Just what does it take for the hunter to lose all that control and composure? Unless they were a robot or a cyborg under all that clothing. That suddenly sounded like it would explain everything, Mirage speculated.

He was now gathering loot with them on the same floor of what looked like it used to be some sort of an office block-greenhouse mix. He got his hands on a R-301, while Bloodhound was attaching a level three shotgun bolt to their Peacekeeper. They already had a Longbow strapped on their back. _Wow, I gotta keep up,_ Elliott thought to himself. Now that he thought about it, this was the first Game where he was in the same squad as Bloodhound - and the first time they were alone in a same room, just the two of them. Why was he getting tense all of a sudden? _Pull yourself together idiot, you're not here to look like a nervous teenager on a first date. They're just a weirdo in a mask who talks to birds in a foreign language, don't freak out. You're the one the world loves, you're the crowd's pet, you're Mirage,_ Elliott mentally beat himself.

"C'mon Witt, keep your wit…"

"Come again?" came from Bloodhound's side.

Had he seriously said that out loud? Sure, he was planning on breaking the ice, but not like that. Embarrassment made his face go red, and he thanked to god he wasn't facing Bloodhound so they didn't see it. Mirage bit his tongue and forced a grin as he turned to face them. He opened his mouth, but had no idea what to say. So he did what he usually did, which was blurting out words and hoping they would eventually click with each other and form a coherent sentence. It was anyway always better than saying ‘’never mind’’. That wasn’t Mirage.

Mirage tried to lean casually against the opened supply bin, legs crossed, fiddling with a extended magazine he had found for his assault rifle.

‘’Sooooooo. Thanks? I guess. The whole scene back there, on the ship. Well I mean I could’ve handled it by myself just fine like I always do, I don’t need your help. Wait I didn’t mean it like that! What I’m trying to say is that it was courteous of you to interfere, 'twas time someone put that asshole to his place. But, y’know, I don’t need saving, I’m not a damsel in distress. Not that there's anything wrong with being... a lady... in an emergyn- emergent- in a difficult... position.’’

_Oh my god Elliott, is this the best you've got..._ He was cringing and beating himself again with an imaginary hammer.

Bloodhound pondered for a moment before answering.

‘’I didn’t do it to save your skin in particular. I did it because it would have been inconvenient for everybody if one of you, if not both, had gotten a penalty or a temporary ban from the Games.’’ they simply stated.

‘’And not only our teammate, but you as well need to watch your temper, Mirage. For the sake of your own well-being.’’ They added before going down on a zip line to the lower floor beneath them, not leaving Elliott a chance of protesting.

* * *

Time went on and squads started to drop out, one by one. Squad 16 was still around Capitol City, but it was a vast place with a lot of loot. Mirage mostly followed Bloodhound from building to another. He didn't know if they found that annoying, but they didn't object, either. The two had made a bit of a conversation here and there, and Elliott had started to relax more around them.

At some point Mirage went to loot to the opposite construction but ran into a squad there, from which he successfully downed one but faced the same thing almost right away.

"Uh, a little help, somebody?" Mirage called to the radio, in pain, crawling in the room on all fours looking for a place to hide. It was only matter of seconds before his decoy couldn't fool the two other contestants anymore.

_''I bathe in the bloth!''_

He got his salvation a moment later when the door was kicked down. Bloodhound stormed into the room, eyes glowing red and movements even faster than normal. That was their Ultimate. Mirage remembered those same eyes from previous Games, when they had been on the opposing teams. Beast of the Hunt, he vaguely remembered it was called...

It was a frightening sight, but something in Elliott fancied the thrill. He still didn't know what it was.

Bloodhound threw their knife to the contestant Mirage had downed, finishing him off. They then fired two shots from their Peacekeeper to the second competitors abdomen, downing him immediately and quickly pulled off the knife from the first one's throat. They ducked, dodging the bullets from the last standing member's Wingman. They got hold of her wrist and parried her attempt of punching them with her second arm and did a spin as they disarmed her and swept her off by the feet. They pressed her on the floor and after some struggling, Bloodhound got the upper hand completely and sinks their knife to the contestant's chest, smoothly like in butter, holding their hand in front of her mouth to muffle the scream.

  
Elliott watched closely to everything that happened before his eyes. Bloodhound's handling of firearms as well as hand-to-hand combat skills were unmatched. _Show-off_ , he scoffed in his head.

"Hvíld, bardagamaður", they whispered in her ear. Soon, death boxes took the dematerialized squad's place.

The Beast wore off, and Bloodhound hurried to Mirage. Before he could move a finger, they pressed him down like they had done with the woman before but not as violently. "Stay put", they ordered him as they thrust a syringe into his arm. Elliott obeyed, holding his breath. The hunter now was closer to him than ever. The fur on their coat brushed his face lightly and his heart raced. Elliott couldn’t decide where to look without being awkward, his pupils ran back and forth from Bloodhound's arm to the blood stain on his stomach. He settled at staring those little bits and pieces hanging on strings from their headpiece and he had time to observe that some of them were wooden, some looked like pieces of bones and some were made from other materials. Where were they from and why?

  
Elliott found interesting how Bloodhound was filled with little details that probably told more stories on the outside like that than people would’ve given thought to, as enigmatic as the hunter were.

He soon felt a cool sensation rushing in his limbs. He was still sore, as the medicines used in the matches didn't heal you entirely - just enough to get you back to the fight in one piece. "Guess I owe you dinner, huh?" Mirage grinned as Bloodhound pulled him back on his feet.

Bloodhound glanced at him, as they made their way upstairs. "You are not in debt for any favors, félagi," they answered, almost like a question - there was pure innocence and confusion in their voice.

Mirage thought it was a shame he never had a chance to translate that native tongue of theirs. It's not like he had pen and paper in the Ring. And even if he had, there was no way he could figure out how to write any of it down. It sometimes sounded like Bloodhound invented whole new letters when they spoke.

"Well, anyhoo. You were kinda like my personal Jesus back there. Or the... All-father? Uh, whichever saint you feel most comfortable with to be referred to, if none. Point is, if ya wanna hit The Kingfisher for a beer or two this evening, drinks are on me. I'm off from my bartender's duties there tonight. Just leave Mirage a call."

"I prefer a whiskey." Bloodhound responded.

Elliott took that as a "no". He smiled sadly. _Of course not._

"However, your proposal has been… noted", they added.

Mirage raised his eyebrows. He hadn't meant his offer in all seriousness, but found himself more excited than he was supposed to when there wasn't a direct decline.

While looking around on the top floor, just below the roof, Elliott realized they still hadn't heard from Caustic. He looked his mini-map, a tracking device which allowed squads to check where their mates where. He was still in the City, based on the little marker. What a jerk. He must've heard we were in trouble and did nothing, he thought to himself. Well, let the man sulk in peace. They were doing just fine without him.

Bloodhound settled into a spot by an open window, positioning their Longbow so that they could have an outlook of their surroundings. They scoped, shifting occasionally an inch just slightly, careful to not let any movement expose their location to anyone who might be somewhere outside. Mirage would've done the same but he hadn't found sniper optics for his G7 Scout. The gun was basically useless without them, so instead he just held onto his R-301 near the other window, keeping an eye on the stairs.

"You know, you're different than I thought." Elliott said, breaking the silence, this time not as awkward compared to when they landed.

"Please, do elaborate", they queried, perfectly still, not taking eye off the scope.

"Well, I always thought you weren't a dickhead like Caustic and I was right, but I didn't know you also had a sense of humor." he blurted out. _Oh dammit, that came out so wrong. Again. Keep it cool, buddy._ "Shit, I mean that you seem like the person who takes everything seriously. You know, with the whole mask thing and how you're always talking about your gods and all creepy topics, like… what was that one word, sladder? Which I figure means slaughter or something in English because you always say that one before you go killing people, oh and also the bathing-in-the-blood -thingy you tend to growl before you expose people in their hiding spots and give them heart attacks, like do you do that for real in your free time orrr...? Kinda spooky stuff but hey that's okay, at least you're not boring!" Mirage rambled on and laughed nervously.

_Will you pleaaaaase stop talking already Elliott, you're making it all weird again..._ The voice in his head did not only have a hammer anymore, but two hammers, and a baseball bat.

"Slátra. And no, I do not clean myself with bodily fluids in my leisure.'' Bloodhound said with a deadpan voice.

''And yes, I do take my faith seriously, but I still like to... lift the spirits, every once in a while.''

"Yeah! Cool. It's just… Nice. To have a conversation, I think. With another person. And not an alien or something", Mirage addressed.

Bloodhound hummed.

Some time before, Mirage had imagined Crypto having a double life on the internet insulting people for money or doing dance tutorials - or both. Bloodhound had actually joined their joking adding that their secret online nickname would probably be something along the lines of Hacker_Dragon_Of_Doom_And_Moves which had sent Mirage into a laughing fit that he had a hard time suppressing. For a person so reserved, boy were they sassy.

‘’What makes you think I am not, in fact, extraterrestrial?’’ They said now smugly, still as statue by the window.

Mirage felt his stiff shoulders loosen up again and he chuckled as he turned back to his original stance. Maybe they weren't _that_ bad after all, _maybe,_ he considered.

He genuinely enjoyed the calm atmosphere, for the first time in his life. Elliott didn't like it if no one was talking and with him being around, he was usually the one keeping the conversation flowing leaving no room for awkward silences. But this was different. It was peaceful, the air between the two Legends was almost serene.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

A bullet from a sniper rifle was shot into the room through the window next to Elliott, followed by the crystal clear sound of glass shattering. Before Mirage realized what happened, Bloodhound charged to him and pinned him down on the floor. ‘’Hey, whoa there buddy!’’ he yelped.

Second gunshot followed the first breaking another window into a million pieces, right where Mirage had been standing seconds ago. If Bloodhound hadn’t tackled him, the bullet would’ve went straight through his temple. The shattered glass landed on Bloodhound's back, covering Mirage so none could get into his eyes. _Why does he have a pair of goggles if he doesn't even intend to use them,_ Bloodhound puzzled.

Had the two let their guard down for a second?

‘’We’ve been spotted.’’

‘’Yeah, thanks for letting me know, Sherlock!’’ the trickster called out sarcastically under them.

‘’Your reflexes should be better than this’’, Bloodhound snarled.

Mirage was paralyzed. The hunter was now even closer to him than he thought that could be possible, in physical sense. Their body was fully pressing his own down with all their weight, gripping his wrists with their gloved fists. He raised his head upwards and was met with the mask, only inches away, Bloodhound’s gaze drilling into him.

_So much for keeping this professional…_

Mirage’s stomach twisted and he let out a few shaky breaths. _What are they doing?_ _Are they going to kill me?_ The tension in the ravaged room was unbearable. As they laid there, glass shards all over the place around them, he swore he could feel Bloodhound tightening their grip on his hands. Elliott had no idea was it the shock, the adrenaline or the annoyed bubbling sensation somewhere in his gut telling him to throw Bloodhound over and _pin them down_ instead.

However the moment, which Mirage didn’t want to end just yet, was soon to be cut short when a ruckus was heard from the stairway. Bloodhound got off of Mirage like a spooked feline, hastily and not with the usual grace which they always used to carefully measure their every move. Now Mirage was the first one to act, he grabbed his weapon quick as a lighting and was aiming it ready to whoever was coming up the stairs.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hvíld, bardagamaður - rest, warrior


	4. Schrödinger's Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the fact to the previous chapters that it's the Season's end and the last match of it. Not that it's a hyper crucial piece of information (yet? I'm not sure)
> 
> Stay safe (and home if you can) during this pandemic y'all! 🙏 Life is crazy right now but we will get through this

* * *

The face that confronted them was both a relief and a disappointment.

"Lower your gun Witt, there's no need to waste those bullets on me."

Caustic raised a hand, sounding grumpy as ever. He had a Havoc strapped on his back. Mirage quickly came up with a clever comment in his head how at least he was capable of telling the difference between a friend or foe before pulling the trigger, but swallowed it. Now was not the time and place to end up with a broken nose.

Although, he couldn't just let Caustic get away with his absence through all of the match.

"Heeey, how nice of you to finally show up, big man. Did you break your walkie-talkie? Or did that thick skull of yours block my obvious req- resq- calls for help?" he taunted.

Mirage didn't know if he had went too far after all, because Caustic stood there for a moment, before clenching his fists and taking three stormy steps in Mirage's direction. He didn't make it to fourth when he was met with a raised Peacekeeper to his side.

"Take one more step and I blow your guts off."

That same monotone voice Bloodhound had used on the dropship in the morning when they had threatened Caustic seemed to work this time too since the man halted, raised both hands in air and slowly backed off. They had a specific way of deepening their tone towards the end of their speech, which Elliott found oddly… mesmeric.

When Bloodhound had made sure things wouldn't blow up between their hot-headed teammates again, they lowered the shotgun but kept it close and ready for any sudden moves. They sighed heavily, shoulders dropping to their sides.

"Will you two already drop this absurd bickering and concentrate on the Game, not on killing each other? For the love of Allfather, you are acting like children. Grow up, _both_ of you.’’ The menacing tone was gone and they were now simply frustrated and tired.

Bloodhound’s irritation was understandable. They had been on the island the whole day looting, fighting and watching out. You just simply couldn't have a moment of rest and let your guard down if you didn't want to get ambushed like they and Mirage had gotten. The Games required a lot of both physical and mental energy, and no one wanted to deal with two fighting colleagues on top of the all the pressure - especially in front of the cameras. Plus, if you didn’t work together, you were as good as dead. Bloodhound was blessed with patience not many had.

Mirage couldn’t help but to blush from embarrassment, second time today. Both men were left speechless, though the facial expressions on Caustic’s face told more than words ever could. Deciding it was best to leave his disapproval just shine from his face, he grunted and turned around.

‘’Anyway, I came here to aid you because I heard the gunshots nearby. And from the looks of it," he squinted his eyes at the room covered in glass, "they miraculously missed you. Which means they will be _here_ soon. And we need a plan." Caustic actually sounded a bit more thoughtful now.

‘’A strategy is necessary, indeed. What do you propose?’’ Bloodhound asked him casually, as if they hadn't been holding him at gunpoint just a moment ago.

‘’If it was my choice, we would be far away from this cramped concrete jungle’’, Caustic responded.

They had to agree on that, Bloodhound wasn’t in their element in a territory like this. They’d rather be somewhere closer to nature, spacious enough for sniping with nature's own offerings to take cover. Caustic undoubtedly preferred something like deserted factories and such infrastructures with lots of rooms to trap opponents and suffocate them with his noxious gas. Like Bunker.

‘’But as it isn’t the case here, it would be wisest to stay here and wait for the enemy. Take them down as the climb up here, one by one’’, he dictated.

Mirage was fine to whatever they decided to do, he could adjust to pretty much anything. But they had to act soon.

Bloodhound disagreed, however. ‘’I suggest the opposite. If we stay here, we will eventually be overrun. There are still seven squads besides us and at least one of them is out there, if not in this building already. We can take down them and maybe two more, but there’s a high danger of getting caught in a crossfire if the nearby teams hear a firefight coming from here.’’

Mirage and Caustic listened attentively.

‘’So, I advise we get out of here right now and let them kill each other first, while we keep an eye on them further on the Mountains and then take out the last standing andskotis. There is a zip line on the roof that can be of use--’’

They were quickly cut off by Caustic.

‘’Absolutely not. We put one foot outside this building and we’re dead. Using a zip line right now is an idea even dumber, it would make us sitting ducks. For crying out loud, do you not have a brain under all that junk on your head? How have you even managed to get in the Top Five, playing dead in the bushes?’’, the bulky man barked. He was referring to the top ranked Legends of the Apex Games, where Bloodhound held the honorable 2nd place. Mirage hated himself for that but he had to agree with Caustic, even though he had worded his argumentation with no manners. But it was true that going outside was a risk too high.

‘’Yes, there is a possibility, but that is a risk I am willing to take for the sake of our victory and judging by your competitive nature, I thought you’d be too.’’ Bloodhound said, standing their ground. Mirage flinched, it’s like the hunter had read his thoughts.

Caustic started getting irritated. ‘’Listen up, you stubborn little freak circus. You're not in charge here, as much as you'd yearn to be. Do I need to repeat myself? We go out, we all die. We stay here and sort the weaklings out with the alms of science, and we take the win.’’ He took out his gas traps and with that, he had made himself clear.

Tensions were rising again, and just as Bloodhound was in the middle of saying something back to Caustic now more heatedly pointing a finger at him, they were interrupted.

* * *

*** * ***

* * *

A loud rumble shook the whole building to the core. The three Legends went down and they all immediately knew what was coming. It was the unmistakable sound of Bangalore’s artillery strike.

‘’We need to get out of here, now!!’’ Bloodhound yelled through the intense shaking of the building. The missiles were already attached to its surface and they were about to explode any minute now. If they stayed inside, there was no way they would survive the attack without waking up back in the Apex recovery ward. To worsen everything, Caustic's placed traps had taken a hit too and were now spewing their noxious gas all over the place.

Caustic however, was insisting on not letting his teammates escape.

‘’Nobody is leaving this building, you hear me?!’’ He roared. Bloodhound shouted something back, between the coughs which looked like they were getting really violent. Their hands were trembling, trying to find a place to cling to. Mirage couldn’t figure out the words because of the loud noise that just kept growing and the ringing in his ears.

Then, the events took their wildest turn yet.

* * *

Bloodhound had unintentionally let go of their Peacekeeper when the sudden air strike had taken place. In midst of the growing smoke, gas and falling debris they hadn’t noticed Caustic, who stealthily grabbed the shotgun from the floor with both hands. He crept up behind them and with brute force, he hurled the gun stock in the back of Bloodhound’s helmet. The hunter dropped on the floor like a sack of potatoes, knocked out cold.

Mirage was now in the total state of bewilderment and at loss for words; the scientist had lost his mind for good. Caustic wasn’t right in the head and he definitely wasn't out there to treat people fairly, but this was on a whole new level of narcissism and barbarism. Not to mention, the move he just pulled made no sense whatsoever considered the situation they were in.

‘’Caustic, what the ever-loving _FUCK_ was that?!?!’’ Mirage finally managed to spat out of his mouth, still coughing but not as roughly anymore as the gas was disappearing slowly.

‘’Have you finally gone mad from your stupid gas fumes, what the hell was that for?!? We're kinda in the middle of a situation here, for the love of God can you _please_ leave your weird temper tantrums outside the Ring?!’’ he cried out, hands going wild. The lunatic would probably slap him too out of consciousness while he was at it, but like hell was Mirage going to hide his disapproval and anger of what Caustic had just done to their teammate, let alone to their chances of winning the Season Finale anymore - or even getting in the Top 3, which was basically impossible with half a squad. He might've as well started a fist fight with him right there and then, at least it would have been a show to remember to the grave. He wouldn't even get in trouble in the outer world, because the cameras inside the room had either been destroyed or shut down since the actual action was going down outside and that's where the live recorders gave their undivided attention for.

Caustic, on the other hand, seemed pretty satisfied of his deed. He tossed the gun away and was standing in front of Bloodhound's unconscious body, like a predator before their struck-down prey. The sick bastard was even smiling like a devil whilst the world was tumbling down, making the scene look like a shot from an apocalyptic movie with green fume still floating around him and Bloodhound. But it wasn't a movie, it was real and it was happening right now.

Then, color drained from Mirage's face. _The cameras..._ He realized that Caustic's true motive was getting revenge.

_O_ _f course_.

As crooked as the man was, he didn't act on impulse. He was humiliated on the ship by Bloodhound in front of everyone, and had been holding a grudge ever since. The publicity of the incident had made Caustic even more furious, and he was just waiting for the right moment to strike. That's why he had only showed up when things started to get intense, and that's why he had denied them from abandoning their spot when the artillery struck the office building - so that he could have his retribution on Bloodhound, while the still working cameras focused on the squads fighting outside.

The Apex Game's rules said that if you got caught attacking your own teammates, it could deny entering the next matches for the whole Season if not more. You could also lose your fundings, sponsors and the title you had acquired, meaning that you pretty much had to climb to the top from scratch all over again. All of this of course depended on the severeness of the incident. There were cases of people getting kicked out permanently, while some were back in the business after a week or two of detention.

But no camera was there now to witness what happened. Caustic had calculated all of that.

Mirage's strong reaction to Caustic's hostility towards Bloodhound surprised even the trickster himself. What watered things down a bit was that the Games were modified in a way that everything felt hyper realistic, but the contestants couldn’t get fatally wounded… most of the time, anyway. But still, in a way the matches felt like dreams; when you were in them, you tended to forget the real world outside for awhile and your brain starts keeping the Arena and killing in it as the reality, like a game of survival but for real. It was kinda fucked up.

What came to that punch, as rough as it was, it wasn’t going to keep Bloodhound out of it forever, maybe to the end of the match. It was still sure to leave a nasty concussion to them. At least they had their mask to keep the poison out, Mirage thought in relief.

Nonetheless, this had revealed a whole new disturbing layer in the already twisted nature of Caustic.

"Quit your blabbering Witt, the hunter very clearly saw it coming. If they would've just listened and do as I told them to, we'd still be merry little family of three here, living happily ever after. But alas, they resisted, so I simply had them removed from the way of our victory." Caustic expressed in a viperish manner as if Bloodhound had been a malfunctioned wheel in his grand scheme of machines, a.k.a people working for his favor and sacrificing themselves in the process.

  
"They lit- litter- litreal- they didn't fucking see anything coming because you knocked them out cold from behind like a coward!" Mirage cried out over the grumble of the building, which was barely keeping itself together anymore. He saw straight through the scientist's lies - he hadn't done what he had in the means of securing any win. He had done it to get a payback.

Caustic scoffed.

"Hold your horses, lover boy. They're not dead. They're probably just paying a visit to that All-whatever they seem to be so fond of. Now, are you with me or not?" He pressed Mirage, offering his gloved hand. Elliott knew the answer to that right away.

"Fuck. You." He articulated and slapped Caustic's stretched out hand away. He was getting out of here.

The building was now coming down hard. The floor beneath them ruptured with a roar separating them, leaving Caustic on one side and Mirage with Bloodhound's limp body on the other, like fate.

"Very well."

Caustic approved darkly, standing on the other side hands behind his back, like a captain who wouldn't leave his sinking ship and had desperately tried to force the crew to go down with him.

''One thing you should know about me is that I do not act for the love of God, but rather for the love of science.''

_What the hell was that supposed to mean here? Jeez, enough with the cryptic comments already,_ Mirage thought and flipped the sadistic Legend off once more. He grabbed the Peacekeeper from the floor, then turned his back on Caustic and concentrated all his physical strength in lifting Bloodhound up from the floor and raising them over his shoulders. The gas had subsided so it was easier for Mirage, not having to use his other hand to cover his mouth anymore. He had only so little time to figure out an escape plan, until he remembered the zip line on the roof which Bloodhound was talking about before.

He managed to drag himself and the unconscious Legend on his back to the stairs which thankfully were just reliable enough to still carry two grown adults. Jesus, did Bangalore's missiles do all this damage? She must have had an upgrade on her arsenal, which wouldn't come as a surprise considering how fast the sergeant had been climbing up the ranks lately. She's gotta be swimming in credits, Elliott thought and put his focus on the weight on his back again. He grinded his teeth down and felt sweat dripping down his forehead, making his carefully styled messy hair all sticky. Bloodhound wasn't overweight at all, but they were built brawny which still required every inch of Elliott's strength to be able to carry them and their weapons. He could feel their muscular body through their attire, as he was holding firmly onto them so they wouldn't slip from his grasp and fall all the way down to the ground. _Damn, they are in a good shape. Okay Elliott, fo-cus._

He got on the roof just in time and he sighed in relief upon the sight of the zip line, which was still intact. Mirage looked at the scenery around him. It was like the Dante's Inferno, fire blazing everywhere, bullets and hand grenades flying, contestants shouting and screaming, the building under him collapsing... Right, that one wasn't going to wait. He ran as fast as he could with Bloodhound on his back to the zip line that led to the side of a mountain, far enough to have a break from this mess for now.

Mirage took a deep breath. They were about to become some very easy kills. People were so busy with demolishing each other on the ground that they hopefully wouldn't notice them. Hopefully, Elliott prayed. He carefully set Bloodhound down to attach himself on the steel cable and then crouched to pick them up again, putting his left hand under their legs and right hand to support their back, mimicking a sloppy bridal carry. "Well, look who's in distress now...'', Elliott recalled their first conversation in the Ring.

''Here goes nothing", he bit down on his lip and took off.

If they both survive this, he will buy a round for the whole bar, and the bar next to it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caustic goes batshit, and the shit is starting to go down from here on...


	5. Game of Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: there's going to be some heavier stuff about a life-threatening medical situation, mentions of panic disorder
> 
> Also I just had to steal that one line from Octane in Season 2 trailer, I wanna thank the Apex team for that
> 
> I have already written a total 9 chapters of this in my Google Docs quite long ago, a total 84 pages but they still need polishing and I'm just too much of a perfectionist so it always takes me some time and courage to actually post these heh

* * *

**_I_ _n_** **_a little while..._ **

''Okay, maybe just half a round'', Mirage had thought aloud, having quickly remembered the state of his bank account coincidentally at the same time when they made it to the end. The landing wasn't that majestic, the two had tumbled down pretty hard and he had barely kept Bloodhound in his arms. He had dragged them behind a large boulder on the foot of the Mountain. He wasn't sure how to proceed with his unresponsive squadmate - he had thought of taking the mask off for a second for them to maybe breathe easier, but then again he wasn't hundred-percent sure what the mask was for. It might have as well been a tool to keep them alive, who knows. He didn't want to worsen things up and last but not least, he did value their privacy.

"C'mon, Talos calling to Hound…" Mirage muttered while jolting the Legend gently in his lap.

After a moment, they answered the call.

Bloodhound lifted their head weakly. "What… hit… us?" they croaked.

Mirage gave a sigh of relief and concern. "Please don't tell me you've got amnesia. Just in case you do, I'm Elliott, last name's Witt, we're out here killing… uh in a match called an Apex Game for short, your name is…"

"I know very well… _where_ we are and I do know who... we are." they interrupted him, voice still weak.

"Whew, got me worrying there for a second. Yeah uh, about that," Mirage ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain what happened in the building. "It wasn't about what hit us but more about what hit _you._ Well sure, technically us because the whole place was pretty much destroyed an-"

"What?" Bloodhound rasped out.

"...aaaaaand Caustic went batshit and gave you a pretty nasty punch in the head and after telling him to go fuck himself, I carried your lifeless body and our guns all the way up to the collapsing roof and then we took a nice little zip line ride over the burning hell below us and well, here we are", he wrapped up.

_Oh boy, I should've just come up with a lie about the last thing, their pride must be shattered. Well, it's not like that’s the main issue here._ Elliott sweated, waiting for their response. They were quiet, still laying over his feet. The realization made Elliott tense.

"You… carried me? Here?" They finally questioned. Elliott was amazed. Seriously, that _was_ the first thing on their mind and not the fact that Caustic, their own teammate, had sent them into the unknown in the middle of an artillery strike?

"I… appreciate your assistance, Mirage." they thanked genuinely.

‘’Yeah, it was no big deal, hitting the gym has paid off at least. I hope a drone caught in on camera, probably would make it to the highlight reel. Anyway, are you alright? It looked like the motherfucker got the breath out of you back there.’’ he replied. 

‘’I am alive and breathing, am I not? Though I am… intrigued to learn the reason behind his deed.’’ Bloodhound queried.

‘’I figured that he just couldn’t deal with someone calling out his bullshit like you did on the ship. He thinks he’s the alpha or something and is not willing to take any constructive criticism, ever.’’ Mirage shrugged off.

‘’Well, that certainly would explain. He really is… a mother’s… fucker?’’ Bloodhound answered, stumbling on the swear word - clearly confused by the term. They still struggled with the language barrier every now and then. Elliott’s face twisted and he couldn’t suppress a laughter. ‘’Yeah buddy, the way you said it makes it sound a tad wrong’’, he snorted.

‘’That andskoti _will_ pay for this.’’ Bloodhound's voice evolved to somewhere way darker and deeper now. ‘’He risked the chances of the championship from this last Game of the Season. Yours too.’’

‘’Nah don’t worry about it, he’s always been like that. There’s nothing you can do about it. Honestly, I think that they should just let him play on his own without a squad and everyone would save their nerves.’’ Mirage shrugged off, again.

‘’Anyway, we should get going. As much as I’d love to sit here and talk shit about Caustic for the whole day, the Ring won’t wait. And so won’t the other players and we don’t want them catching us behind this big rock gossiping about the big bad wolf, right?’’ he flashed a smile as he pulled Bloodhound back on their feet.

‘’...You are right. It is the most reasonable option if we search for a location that has not been disrupted yet. To recoup and form a battle strategy there.’’ Bloodhound proposed.

‘’Well aren’t we the dream team! Look at us, who would have thought?’’ Elliott exclaimed cheerfully, clapping his hands together. He swear he could sense Bloodhound rolling his eyes behind that mask. _Not me._

Mirage raised his hand in the position to get a high-five and instead got a confused poke from Bloodhound’s gloved finger on his palm, as they had no idea what Mirage's hand gesture meant.

‘’Wow, you really are clueless for a quick-witted person like yourself’’, he jested again.

‘’And you, Mirage, are perfect... for a clown person’’, they shot back.

_‘’Hey!"_

*** * ***

The two trekked on the mountainside, looking for a cottage of some sort to prepare their next move. Mirage was walking ahead of Bloodhound and they followed him, not far, watching his back and their surroundings. They used their Eye of the Allfather to scan their locations a couple of times but the island seemed to be dead empty.

‘’It’s like the whole Arena just decided to have a day off and leave us here for the next four weeks! Hellooooooo, anyone?’’ Mirage hollered out.

‘’Keep it down, you’ll alert someone. Save your bloodthirst for when we’re actually ready.’’ Bloodhound scolded.

‘’Well look who’s talking about being bloodthirsty! Ain’t that a bit hypocri- hypochrit- fake of you, Hound, _Blood-_ hound if I may, considering how you butchered three people like cockroaches earlier’’, the voice in front of them called out.

Bloodhound let out a cocky blow from their nose but the rest of their speech's tone stayed more meekish. ‘’Please, three is not that much of a number. I have usually fared way better in these matches. And you downed one of them beforehand, I do not own the credit wholly.’’

Mirage did a 180 spin and walked backwards, facing Bloodhound. ‘’Awww, and they are so humble, too! Please, there's no need to be that gentle on Mirage’’, he winked at them and turned back to walk straightforward again.

‘’Allfather, give me strength…’’ they sighed, rubbing the mask’s part where the bridge of their nose would be. They were amused behind it, though, which they didn’t show to Mirage.

_He is a fool, but a charming one._

They weren’t actually that bothered by his presence than what they would’ve thought to be. This Legend did have a sort of… magnetic aura wrapped around them, they mused in their head. But behind all that flamboyance, all that lip... was it a façade? Was there something else he didn’t show off to the world as pompously like all the interviews and articles about him? Bloodhound was a bit of a lone wolf, sure, but they still kept up with all the news and happenings in the Apex community. There had to be something else.

And that something made them think that Mirage’s codename fitted him better for another reason than his holographic technology.

Bloodhound’s pondering was interrupted when they heard Mirage's cheerful voice again. ''Hey, there's a nice little hut, see?'' He pointed a hidden, smallish log cabin surrounded by spruces, roughly 200 meters away. It certainly differed from the otherwise modern infrastructure on the island and from the way it was so secluded, it had probably been there in hunters' use long before the island was turned into a killing ring for the television. ''Kinda shadowy and suspicious, you should feel at home there'', Mirage humored.

''Are you comparing me to a lodge?'' they asked like they were dead serious but their light tone gave their amusement away.

''Well, you are a hunter. And that's a hunter's cabin. I think you two are compatible to say the least. Huh, do you think I should take on an estate agent's job?''

''Judging by the magazines, you do have the natural talent of winning people's hearts with your rhetorical skills so why not make money out of it?'' Bloodhound answered playfully.

Mirage felt a delicate warmth rise on his cheeks. _They have read the articles about me?_

''Uh-huh, right, let's be on our way then shall we?''

The two walked towards the hut, Mirage still in front of Bloodhound. The wind was blowing gently and the sun was still out but on its way to the horizon, gilding the clouds with a faint tint of coral and orange. Bloodhound inhaled the light breeze and let themself relax. They had a rare chance to admire the scenery, something that one usually didn't have the time for in the Arena. You were there either killing or getting killed, not looking at pretty landscapes. Apart from all the torn infrastructure and the bloodshed, the island was beautiful on its own. And astonishingly diverse, in biome-wise.

But not everything there was beautiful, no. A particular place, just next to them, was everything but beautiful. They didn't want to think about it right now.

Instead, Bloodhound swirled the word that Mirage had used in his metaphor on their tongue while studying the nature around them.

_Home..._

The mountain view, the tall pines and spruces around them and the log cabin in the distance indeed reminded them of a place they used to call home. A memory that turned bittersweet, but it was still a memory they harbored in their heart. They held onto it, the vision comforted them and took them back to the simpler times of training and preparing to step in their uncle's shoes. Before that life changed.

The faces of their brethren and...

Then they raised their head to look at the apricot sky, and suddenly the image of the burning ships came along. That put the end for the strayed thoughts.

_Enough reminiscing for today._

*** * ***

The two were just little away from the cottage and Bloodhound drew one more sharp inhale of the crisp air before preparing themself to plan out their next move with Mirage. Something irritated their throat and they cleared it quickly. Strange, considering how the air quality was flawless there.

  
  
Mirage piped up again. ''I really wish a camera was somewhere for Caustic to see from the television that we're still going strong. Oh man, I would have loved to see his stupid face. I bet the nurses aren't going to let him out of the recovery bed anytime soon. Not gonna lie, dying under a collapsing tower really isn't the way you wanna go in these. Well, not like it was our fault. The bastard almost killed us too with the damn gas there.''

''That surely was not his intention.'' Bloodhound answered back.

''Yeah sure, who knows. I mean he wouldn't _do_ that, but I bet that he wouldn't had found it inconvenient either if we just, you know, dropped dead in there.''

''I do not think so. Caustic may be a... challenging colleague to work with, but I trust that that there is still logic and purpose in the way he plays. We are a team after all and he said himself he came to assist us to the office building, no?''

Mirage snorted and snapped his head to Bloodhound in incredulity. ''Say what now? You really think there was any logic and purpose behind when he slung that Peacekeeper to your head? Jesus, I can't believe your still defending him. You're so naive.''

Bloodhound's voice behind him spoke with irk. ''I am not defending--''

Mirage turned his back to Bloodhound again and before they could finish their sentence, he interrupted them and argued back more rudely. ''Yeah, you better not be. Also didn't you just say a while ago that the ''ansk-'' ansdot- andostic- uh the thing you called him, will _pay?_ That didn't exactly sound like you're going out there to grant amnesty to him. Unless it was more like a figure of speech or something. You know what, whatever the case, I don't wanna intervene in it. Have it your way. I'm just glad I don't have to see him for the next month, been enough of warmongering with him for one Season.''

Bloodhound contemplated their answer for a moment before they decided that Mirage had a point. ''Touché.''

Mirage snorted again. ''Thought so.''

But they just couldn't let him have the last word. ''However, I do believe that your viewpoint of Caustic is still biased-''

* * *

* * *

Bloodhound still felt something in their airways. They cleared their throat again, trying to get rid of the whatever had got stuck in there with the wind.

But it didn’t go away.

''You were saying? Please do go on, I'm dying to hear your argument about how I'm the bad guy here'', Mirage needled them.

Bloodhound opened their mouth to finish their statement, but a dry cough came out instead.

Mirage scoffed in front of them. ''Is this seriously your comeback? Yeah looks like verbal fights ain't one of your strong suites if you're just gonna cough at people like that. No wonder you're better at killing folks 'cuz you never really talk while doing that. You just kinda... growl something aloud.''

Bloodhound didn't manage to answer to that. Because a second cough followed the first one, then third.

Then fourth, fifth, and sixth.

Then they lost count.

They tried their hardest to suppress the coughing, but their lungs protested. Mirage threw his hands up in ridicule. ‘’Never mind, hallelujah thank you, enough talking about Caustic for one day!''

Bloodhound took a deep breath, but they couldn't take all of the air in.

''Uh, you okay back there though buddy?’’ Mirage called out casually but with a hint of concern now, still not looking back. ‘’Man, you sounded like Renee when she tried to smoke a cigarette for the first time and the dumbass sucked on it from the wrong side.’’

‘’I’m, I am fine Mirage, I appreciate your consideration. Let’s just keep on w-’’ they couldn’t finish the sentence when another coughing fit took over. Which ceased eventually, but that was where the actual nightmare began.

_Helvíti, not now, not here,_ Bloodhound cursed under their shaky breath, knowing what was coming. _It shouldn’t come up here, it wasn’t supposed to. Why was it happening right now?_

Mirage sensed that something was off. The coughing behind him stopped but even with the distance between them, he could hear them breathing really heavily now. ‘’You sure? If you still need to rest just tell me, it's not like we're running with bullets and the scorching wall on our asses here yet-’’

‘’I told you that I was fine, I… I am…-’’, voice quieting and then slowly dying out. It was like they were inhaling the air from the smallest straw in the world. And that straw was being squished with every breath they tried to take into their shrinking airways.

Bloodhound fell on their knees, desperately gasping for air. They clutched their chest. It felt so tight, like someone had strapped a rock on it. And the straps kept tightening.

_They weren’t fine._

* * *

Mirage saw from the corner of his eye what happened. "H- hey! B- Bloodhound?!"

He rushed to his companion's side and with a slide he dropped to get on their level. They were so tense with their gloved hand on their chest. Their breathing was off, it was irregular and distorted from the mask. Mirage quickly observed the situation and came to a conclusion. Shortness of breath, trembling hands, state of distress…

_Were they having a panic attack?_

Mirage couldn’t believe his eyes. _Oh my god, is this really happening? Is this some kind of a new hallucination you get in these matches?_ he kept asking himself. He was in total disbelief of the sight in front of him, it was _absurd_ to see Bloodhound in a state like this. But sure, they just went through some serious back-stabbing, maybe they just didn’t know how to deal with such emotions. After all, in their own words from days ago: Mirage didn't know anything about them.

This was definitely a Game he hadn’t signed up for. But he wasn’t just going to stand there. He was going to help them get through this. For the first time, Elliott felt like he could actually help someone with something he’d experienced first-hand. His own episodes didn’t go exactly like this, but he still knew what to do.

_Oookay. Yup. This is happening. You got this. Mirage to the rescue._

He grabbed Bloodhound’s hand. ‘’Hey, hey look at me. This must be pretty weird for you because we don’t know each other and all and it definitely is for me, but I want to help. Help you to get through this because I’ve been there, too. So many times actually that I’ve lost the count. And believe when I say I know what it’s like when you think you’re going to die. The overwhelming fear of losing control and your own mind just slipping from your fingertips, I don't wish that even for my worst enemy."

Bloodhound kept breathing rapidly. ''W-what?'' they rasped out.

Elliott went on, voice breaking just faintly. "Yeah, ever since my brothers went missing during the Frontier War and seeing my mother's health deteriorate, I started getting them. They first started as nightmares, then in the middle of the night even if I wasn't asleep. Then they came in the grocery store, in the pharmacy to get my mother her medicine, even in these matches a few times. Kinda sucks when I'm about to go for the kill and then I see one of my brother's faces in the enemy's place and next thing I know, I'm in the recovery bed losing my shit. Sometimes the alcohol numbs my head enough, sometimes it makes everything even worse.''

''But the thing is that they always pass, and yours will, too. I don’t know if this is your first panic attack but if it is, you’ll want to follow my lead.’’ He was actually proud how calm he stayed, even though there were a lot of things unfolding that most people didn't know about.

‘’The trick here is breathing, slow and steady. First, take a deep breath and hold for 10 seconds. Then if you can, try to find something to look at and touch at.’’ he urged.

"-I can't-’’

Bloodhound’s voice was like a whistle. Mirage had never heard it like this before and it was terrifying, but he wasn’t going to let his own anxiety distract him.

‘’Yes you can, I believe in you buddy!'' he encouraged. ''I know it’s awful but trust me it’s not going to kill you, you’re gonna be alright pal, it’s going to be fine. You’re not alone, you’ll get through this, we’ll get through this together, I’m right here. Now repeat after me here, take a deep breath and count to 10, then exhale-’’

‘’Elliott, _I can't breathe_ ", they wheezed out, voice so small but in full terror.

They really felt like they were going to die. Maybe this time, they weren't going to get back up anymore, here or in the real world.

The nightmare had became true.

They were drowning.

_Artur…_

Mirage was clueless now. _Oh shit. Oh fuck. Were they seriously going to die from it? Panic attacks shouldn't go like this, this is way too overboard,_ he sweated, running out of advice.

And Bloodhound out of any little oxygen they had left. They tried to snatch open one of their pockets but something held it closed. They tried to hide it until the end but had no choice anymore. They couldn't do this on their own.

"Mirage, I need you," they gasped out almost whispering, sentences cutting short. "I need you to, to do something for me,"

"Just tell me what to do and uh, maybe then stop talking, it sounds like it's making whatever is going on only worse", Elliott answered hastily, both of his hands tightening grip on Bloodhound's.

"My in-", struggling, fighting for their last breath. "my inhaler. In the p-pocket, on your right. Please," they pointed the pouch on their coat, desperately but still getting themselves sound so polite, like it was merely a request. 

Elliott's eyes shot wide open, but first he had to act before he had time to think. He knew right away what they were talking about. _Why had he realized so late what was actually happening._ After some forceful fumbling, he handed out the small blue device to them as fast as he possibly could and helped them sit up straight.

"Mirage", they managed to grunt out between the wheezes. " **Turn**."

They weren't asking anymore. Elliott caught their drift immediately and didn't need to be told twice. "Fuck, of course, if you need help I'm right here, I'm here for you", he reassured but the tremble in his voice told he was more trying to suppress the rising panic in himself. He heard the sound of clasps opening and a forceful yank as the mask was tossed off. A brief shaking sound followed and then a slow inhale. 

Elliott felt so, so dumb. He wanted to bury his head into the mud and rip his hair out. _It was never a panic attack you idiot, you just told your unasked-for traumatic life story face-to-face to a stranger having an asthma attack._ Well, he didn’t literally face all of it - and that made it worse because he couldn't check if they were okay, he knew he _couldn't_ do that to them. He just had to wait.

Elliott was dumbstruck. The most feared and respected hunter of the Frontier, the legendary Bloodhound, had _asthma._ He wasn't mocking or dissing them of it in his head by any means, it was just the last thing he'd expect to find out from them, not to mention in the first match they fought together. Not because it'd make them any weaker, but because it made them so… humane. This cloaked, invincible being who functioned almost like a machine was a human, after all. How had they managed to hide it all this time? Having a health condition like that would pretty much disqualify you from the Games, another thing that was listed in the rules. That was a question for another time, though.

His thoughts were disrupted when he heard Bloodhound take another inhale from the reliever. Elliott tried his best to not turn over to them and the agony was eating him alive.

But he just had to wait.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not personally have asthma so I did a lot of research for this one and I have witnessed someone I know struggling with it, but let me know if you find somehow odd how I depicted Bloodhound's asthma attack!
> 
> oh and yeah not really log cabins in the actual World's Edge but in this fic there is


	6. Things On Your Chest You Need To Confess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out to be so much longer than the others at first so I decided to split it in two chapters whoosh. And it's still pretty long compared to the rest lmao. The other one is pretty much ready, but I also like to give some time between the chapters instead of publishing everything at once.
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for reading! Every kudos and comment means the world to me <3
> 
> Stay safe guys!

* * *

* * *

* * *

After a period of time which felt like eternity, Elliott heard their voice. ‘’It… is okay to turn around now.’’ 

He did, and was faced with Bloodhound who had their mask on again. They were still breathing a bit unstable, but were definitely in a better shape than maybe 25 minutes ago.

"Were there cameras nearby?" was the second thing Bloodhound's somewhat ragged breath delivered.

"I'm pretty sure not since we're basically in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us."

‘’Good, then."

"I suppose I owe an explanation.’’ they sighed defeated.

‘’Are you kidding me, there’s nothing to explain! It’s fine, I swear, I’m just glad you’re okay. I know what it was and I know that those attacks can end up really bad and for a minute I thought you were going to… that it was going to be bad’’, Mirage said.

‘’The thought crossed my mind, too.’’ Bloodhound admitted quietly. ‘’They usually don’t… get this intense. I normally manage to handle them by myself.’’

"You were not supposed to see this", they said lowly.

"Well technically I didn't, if it makes you feel better", Mirage cracked. "Whoops, sorry, too soon."

Bloodhound just stared forward vacantly.

‘’It just came out of the blue. You seem pretty much immortal, I could’ve never guessed.’’ he said then.

‘’Did you think the mask was there only to serve an aesthetic purpose?’’ Bloodhound queried. When they didn’t get an answer, they sighed again.

‘’I am not immortal by any means.’’

They continued. "I understood why my fit was so severe. I noticed that my mask had a crack in it. I assume it was damaged when our teammate, as you said… went bat's shit."

Mirage just now noticed the little fracture in their mask’s filter, where Bloodhound tapped their finger. He gaped. ‘’Don’t tell me…’’

‘’The gas from his traps… it went to my lungs, there was nothing to filter it or keep it out. The fumes must have stayed in there the whole time until now to trigger an attack like this.''

They blew a sharp air through their nose. ''Looks like he did get the breath out of me, after all.’’ they added, almost sarcastically.

Mirage just sat there, speechless for a brief moment. ‘’Caustic, that fucking jerk.’'

''Are you... going to be fine? Like, you're not gonna die right now with your mask broken or anything?'' he fretted.

''I am able to operate without it, but I will get it repaired of course. For the rest of the Game, I should be fine'', Bloodhound assured.

The two sat there silently, on the grass in front of the cottage. The wind was still breezing lightly but the clouds in the sky were being coated with richer shades of orange.

''I remember hearing rumors about incidents of severe injuries he has caused to other players. How does he get away with it?'' Bloodhound puzzled.

Mirage spoke. ''Money.''

''Money?'' Bloodhound questioned.

''Newsflash, Bloodhound. It's the goddamn money that keeps him in the Games.''

''I do not understand.''

Elliott blinked.

''What's there not to understand? You're joking, right?''

''What has money to do with it?''

Bloodhound sounded like they really had no clue.

So Elliott had to enlighten them with a lesson on the great gospel of what happens when capitalism and corruption get together.

''It's both the money that he brings to their pockets and the money he _gives_ to their pockets in exchange of turning heads away or even cover up the whole thing whenever someone gets a little too close to actual death from his little 'accidents' ", Mirage stated. ''We don't even know if there has been confirmed cases of death by him. But people have been dying in these nonetheless, under 'unclear circumstances'. Rumors and whispers eventually swept under the carpet are all these people are left of. Good old Syndicate never misses a spot while taking out the trash.'' 

The hunter's eyes widened behind their lenses.

_What?_

Bloodhound stiffened. They couldn't believe what they had just heard. What Mirage said actually came as a surprise to them - more like a shock, to be honest. They did have a sort of naive worldview after all, due to their own hermit-like lifestyle. Of course they knew the world and its human species wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, their parents fate was there to illustrate that. But they hadn't really given a thought about how these Games really worked, and to think that someone who cheats their way to the top with the most gruesome of ways and the worst part, has it even encouraged by such a known and famous organization as the Mercenary Syndicate... now that was wrong. No, it was an _insult._ It was a mockery to the gods, it was a mockery to everything the Games meant for them, and last but not least it was a mockery to the core reason why they had signed up for the bloodsport in the first place. They couldn't have imagined that the whole system was corrupted like that. They had lived in the thought that it was all fair play, a genuine practice for one to prove their strength and honor the gift of life they have been given, to train one's physical and spiritual self. The monetary part was a welcomed addition in order to keep themself and Artur fed but the amount of it was still way too big and absurd, they thought. The fame on the contrary was not a priority for them like it was to many others.

But honesty definitely was.

This revelation made Bloodhound feel various feelings of disbelief, anger, disgust and downright betrayal.

_The gods must hate me._

They stared at their palms.

_I have slátrað with these hands just to hear that all this time I have been taken part in a big fraud?_

Bloodhound frowned. Anger and disappointment started to stir inside them. They wanted to lie down and bury their face in their hands and scream and curse, but decided that throwing a fit like that right now would raise one too many concerns for their teammate sitting next to them.

_What would Artur and the others think of me now..._

* * *

''...Oh.'' Bloodhound finally summarized their mind. Their tone was overall flat, but a twinge of darkness somewhere deep and hidden in it caught their teammate's attention. It made Mirage think that they weren't as unfazed as they expressed out loud.

''Yeah. The whole world's just one big slut for the gold. Especially the Syndicate.''

''How come is this allowed? Money is not an excuse for deceptions. Beside us, millions of viewers are being lied to! This must be stopped and brought into the light!'' Bloodhound huffed.

Elliott stared at them blankly again.

_Wow, I figured they were a bit out of touch but I thought they lived in a tree, not under a rock._

''You're asking for world peace here, buddy. After the war, such nice things as 'morals' started weighing as much as a sheet of toilet paper and these values got replaced with 'business'. It's just how the world works. The faster you'll get used to it, the quicker it starts bugging you less", Mirage dismissed.

"And the viewers ain't saints themselves either. The more twisted the show, the more people wanna watch it, that and to get away from their miserable lives. More views brings more money. So you think the organizers give a rat's arse if someone gets bedridden or dies once or twice in a year or so? Crocodile tears are what they give to the families but everything stays the same, nothing changes, and never will."

''But sure, go and book an appointment with the old man Blisk and tell him your worries and maybe he'll get concerned. But it'll be a cold day in Hell before that happens.''

"But-" Bloodhound started to say but then just sighed frustrated.

_You are not so innocent yourself either, Bloth. This world you were forced to adapt to runs on lies and you had two options; to make one up yourself or don't._

_I had no choice!_

_You know you had._

**-**

Mirage knew he said they didn’t have to explain anything, but couldn’t keep his curiosity tamed. ‘’Uh, can I ask you something?’’ 

Bloodhound snapped out of their train of thought and tried to sound as calm as possible. ‘’Ask away, félagi.’’

‘’Is it… something you always had? Or did something… happen? I know it's none of my business but I'm just interested. The asthma, I mean.’’ 

Mirage wasn’t quite sure how to word his question in a way that didn’t step over the line.

_He already knows too much._

The silence lasts for a lifetime, as Bloodhound considers it in their mind. It made Elliott stress that he really had step over the line.

They eventually start speaking.

"Something happened."

_No, stop_.

They challenge it.

Not knowing whether in means of answering Mirage's question or defying themselves.

"When I was young and foolish."

_I said stop it._

They comply.

Bloodhound stops talking as soon as they begin. Elliott took that as a sign but regardless came up with a follow-up question.

"Hey now, weren't we all a bit dumb as kids? I'm sure whatever you did isn't still half as bad as the stupid shit I pulled off to cause my mom gray hair", he tried to lighten up the mood. "A prank or two never hurt anyone, you live, you learn. What, you ate a vacuum cleaner bag when you were a Bloodpuppy?"

Bloodhound seized their stare to Mirage. Even though no words were said, no facial expression could be seen, the heavy aura that descended with the round, hollow lenses boring into Elliott's soul made him translate it as a "back off". He gulped when he glanced over to the knife holstered on the belt around their waist and gulped a second time when he saw Bloodhound's hand dangerously close to it. Elliott realized that maybe this was one of the times he ought to keep his big mouth shut.

But much to surprise to them both, Bloodhound turned their head forward again and continued.

"This mask, this condition I have... the asthma is one of the after-effects of what happened. A mistake someone else had to pay for."

_Enough, Bloth. By the Allfather, you are in the middle of the competition, act like it. When did you get this chatty with strangers, anyway?_

They didn't say more than that, but the words they spoke were coated in blame.

Elliott didn't know what to say in response. He thought that saying some shit like "I'm sorry" was a cliché and just stupid but him being silent like this was just awkward. And he prided in being stupid, not awkward.

"I'm sor-"

"Don't."

Bloodhound's voice turned ice cold. It was freezing, it beared no kindness, no warmth from the earlier conversations they'd had today in the Ring. It was a warning. The way how they delivered the single word was like the shot of an arrow, impaling Elliott's any attempt of compassion. The sharp taste of bitterness and the rather tasteless lack of humane feeling in it shocked Elliott and he couldn't help but to feel a bit offended.

"Jeez take a chill pill, it's just a nice gesture, don't take it so personally!" he lashed out, regretting it immediately.

Response from Bloodhound followed. Rather than menacing, they sounded just... emotionless, almost befuddled at Mirage's reaction.

"Why? You have no reason to express your gestures. I can not expect anything like that from a person that I'm not acquainted with. My personal and private matters are not your concerns. Everything that happened years ago is in the past, you need not feel sympathy for me.''

Elliott could argue with that, but didn't say it aloud.

‘’May I ask you something in return, Mirage?’’ 

They sounded more genuine now. Elliott decided to drop his own childish play. ‘’Oh, uh, by all means’’, he breathed.

‘’As much as I disagree with their principles... The Officials can not know about this. If they find out the truth about my health, they _will_ kick me out. I… can’t let them take this away from me.’’ they said with that composed voice, but still a fragile undertone lied somewhere in it which tugged Elliott's heartstrings.

This was clearly something really important to them, he thought.

‘’Don’t sweat it, your secret stays with me.’’ he vowed.

Elliott suddenly realized that he, too, had put himself into a really vulnerable situation, and he mellowed in these thoughts. He had half-accidentally shown a side of him that pretty much nobody knew, to a Legend he thought would be the last one to see. All in the duration of one match.

‘’I guess we’re even here in a way. I kinda overshared a lot of stuff back there in the heat of the moment when I thought you were, you know, having a panic attack. I haven’t really opened up about my life to anyone, except for Renee maybe.’’

‘’So uh, I wanted to say I’m sorry. Also for snapping at you. I feel a bit stupid because I thought I was helping your fit but turns out, all I did had probably pretty much the opposite effect.’’ he said sheepishly.

''There is no reason to ask for my forgiveness. Without you, I don't know if I could have gotten my inhaler out in time. And there is no way of knowing how that would have affected my fate. Since people with damaged health conditions are typically not allowed in these competitions, there are no recorded cases of contestants waking up in the recovery facilities from say, a fatal asthma attack for example.'' Bloodhound stated.

‘’Yeah, that’s true… ’’, he murmured.

Either one didn’t say anything for a minute or two until Elliott decided to speak up in attempt to lighten up the mood again - or at least change the subject that was a little too downbeat for his liking. Not that what he had in his mind was exactly suitable for an everyday small-talk topic either. But, suitable topics run small when you're dropped on a huge island to take part in a reality television show with guns and your partner in crime seems not to be the type to enjoy insignificant 'how's the weather'-kind of conversations. So he might as well get straight to the business.

‘’Which reminds me, where do you think you go after you die?’’

‘’Valhalla, I hope.’’ Bloodhound answered.

Elliott let out a laugh.

‘’No, Sherlock. I mean here, in the Games. And for all the players in general. When you die and your death box pops up... where do you go before you get respawned or if you're unlucky, before you wake up in the hospital? I know the data gets stored in the respawn chip for a good half an hour and they have that same information back there in case your squad sucks but where does your physical body and mind go during that time?'' 

''I am afraid I do not have the answer for that.''

''Of course you don't, it was a rhetorical question. But don't you think it's weird and kinda creepy? How your body just dematerializes into the thin air and hangs around somewhere only God knows. Funny how they don't explain it more than just some jargon about ''advanced technology''. Pffft, more like magic. That stuff never clicked with me, I'm better with engineering and holographic technology. Something you can actually see. Well, kind of anyway.''

Bloodhound tapped their mask in thought.

''I suppose... you just cease to exist.''

''Wow, that's dark of you. So you think we just die?'' 

''In a way, yes, if you see it as dying. I do not. For myself, dying means going into the eternal paradise, the one I just mentioned. Carried by the Valkyries, to the great dining hall of of warriors, blessed by the Allfather. But only if it happens in a battle. So this 'death' in these games, is not dying but simply not existing in the material world until you get back, is how I would put it."

''Oh, that's kinda badass. So you don't get to your preferred afterlife unless you die in action?''

Bloodhound nodded.

''So what then if you're like 90 years old and you hear the Grim Reaper knocking on the door and you're just laying in a hospital bed strapped to a ventilator or something? Do you jump out of the bed and start throwing hands with the doctors?''

Bloodhound laughed.

_There it was again._

The same rich and deep sound echoed and climbed up the the pines and spruces around them. The machine-like flavored sound by the modifier was exactly how Elliott remembered it from that one time before. But now they really let it flow through the air, it was almost like a song but more than that it was like an unpolished diamond, rough and raw, but it was humanely raw even with the mask in between. And it was beautiful to him.

''You are a bizarre man, Mirage.''

Elliott winked. ''I get that a lot. Nice rhyme by the way, Edgar Allan Poe. You familiar with _The Raven?_ ''

"I am, actually."

"Instead like the rest of you, that one was predib- precrib- prepribble-- ugh, didn't come as a surprise. Ravens and ominous, fancy words? I bet your folks read that one for your bedtime story. Speaking of birds, look who we just summoned."

The pair's attention then focused on the feathered animal who had hopped over to the two. Not a raven, but a lone sparrow watched them curiously from a meter away. Bloodhound whistled to it and the bird returned a cheerful chirp.

''Ha ha, aren't you quite the bird-whisperer. What are you two chatting about?" Mirage asked.

Bloodhound whistled again and the sparrow peeped back. "Our friend here told me that when you dematerialize temporarily, you turn into a beautiful little creature like himself before you get back to being an ugly, lying, greedy, selfish human again", they jested, but they still stood by their opinion about the human race.

Mirage chuckled. "Whoa, ouch, slow down there buckaroo. And hey I know for one that _I_ wouldn't be some little chipmunk like that. I'd be something cool, like an eagle or something. Or a seagull. I know on whose head I would shit first."

"Ah, I thought a parrot would have suited you better."

Now it was Mirage's time to roll his eyes.

His tone turned then more serious, mind still set on the previous subject. ''What if one day you don't get back though? What if there's an error in the code or something and they can't respawn your body back to the physical world?'' 

''That is a possibility, I assume. After all, modern technology is not to be mindlessly trusted.'' Bloodhound said.

''Does it scare you? If something goes wrong and... you get lost somewhere? Forever?''

''No. I believe in destiny, and the path the gods have laid out for me. Sure that is not the way I would have imagined to go but, I trust in the will of the Allfather.''

The trickster mused. ''Destiny, huh... ain't that a pretty little thing to put your faith in. Not that I should had. The only Destiny I know of is the name of a girl that I used to date once and I think the only path laid out for me is the usual walk of shame after another one of my poor life-decisions. But say, Hound, don't you think your destiny would be a bit of a bitch for cheating on you and then ditching you off like that?'' 

''...Maybe.''

Elliott grinned at that. "We'd share similar experiences, then."

He spoke up again.

''Anyway, for me it's like a long-ass dream when you're out there somewhere, waiting to get back... or more like a coma, it feels like ages for real. But like one of those dreams where you're not actually dreaming, you're just... out. But when you're alive and fighting and tearing each other apart, that's the messed up part. That's when it feels like a dream. A lucid dream, I guess. The whole thing is fucked up, and people just keep doing it and for what? The money and the glory that was promised to them? That's sad." 

Mirage scoffs out the last part and Bloodhound now turns to him, in curiosity.

"But, fair enough some of them do it for actually respectable stuff like answers and whatnot. I'm not judging Renee.''

''Anyway, you know when you're asleep and you see a really twisted dream and you're just like yeah this is my life now, and you don't question it even for a second while you're in it? That's how I feel when I'm here. And I figure a lot of others, too. I think they should conduct a survey on how this shitshow affects the contestants' mental well-being. But that wouldn't exactly skyrocket the views, now would it."

Elliott didn't realize he had said too much again until everything was said and done.

He definitely hoped a camera had _not_ caught that one.

_Nice one Elliott, you know karma's gonna come kicking back for that one... in the embodiment of your managers._

Mirage's sudden venting had taken Bloodhound by surprise. He sounded actually quite serious and thoughtful about it. They couldn't help but to be genuinely interested of him now. Expectant, even.

"Then why are you here?" Bloodhound questioned.

"To party rock.''

Bloodhound just stares at Mirage with a deadpan face. He throws this in the air ever so cheerfully like he always does when he speaks, they think. But the tracker catches a sour aftertaste left lingering in its trail. There's more than a joke. There is more.

What lies behind the façade?

They wait for him to continue answering the question that had been bugging them for awhile. They almost thought of asking him to go on, but couldn't get themself to it. They just wait, almost in anticipation, finding themself more eager than they would like to let themself be, but they didn't care for now.

Because maybe he actually was different from the rest, they thought. Hoped.

Bloodhound then opens their mouth in order to ask him again but never gets the words out.

Because in the same second Mirage's loud voice rings again and it shatters whatever hopes they had gotten up, gone as quickly as they came.

''But seriously speaking? I'm in it for the sweet sins themselves. Money and glory, baby.''

_Oh._

That is all that Bloodhound manages to think of it.

They don't judge him in a way that he'd done something morbid or unforeseen.

They simply understand that he's doing what everybody else is doing in the Games.

And it manifests in a disappointed, in a let down _oh._

_Why are you judging him?,_ they soon catch themselves. _He is just an ally for the match, an associate like everyone else with nothing but money in mind. Why should you be disheartened of his reasons any more than the others?_

Bloodhound doesn't have the answer to that.

They silently beat themself for letting any sort of emotion rise to the surface, even though never shown out loud.

And finally, they regret ever asking the question.

*****

Mirage looked over to the hunter who seemed to have little to no reaction at all, apart from the light tilt of their helmet downwards. Again, no face, no words, but they had that weird skill of altering the atmosphere around them from which he concluded as that they had expected something else. He flashes a toothy smile before continuing. _I won._

''Ha! Look at you, you got bamboozled didn't you. Ya thought I was here on some epic mission of righteousness? Nah, I'm just as bad as everyone else. Well, not _just_ as bad. My mother could really use better treatment so I'm saving for that also. But that's my only excuse of not being a total loser. So yeah, not really much of a dark, dramatic, deep backstory for me. I'm just a guy wanting something, I guess. Not the thrill of death and blowing off your legs that gets Octane jumping on grenades, for me it's just... wanting something, filling something, making my mark, standing out, I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever find it here, spraying and praying at strangers playing dress-up, but I guess I just have to keep looking and trying. All I gotta do is die young. And look good while at it."

He gives out a sad laugh and begins again.

"It's kinda pathetic, really... How I did this to myself, willingly. But I've come too far to quit now. I'm not even sure if they would allow me, heh. I don't think they'd let their golden goose go that easily. This show would go into a tailspin without me, don'tcha think?" he joked. 

No answer.

Mirage laughed nervously at the uncomfortable silence and ran fingers through his hair.

"Anyway, you shouldn't take what I've said too seriously. Take it with a salt of grain. Or was it the other way around? I'm not even sure what it means. Oh well. I'm rambling again."

Bloodhound still didn't say anything and thought of keeping it that way.

_He's just another one lost to the materialistic possessions and illusions of a made-up prestige._

For a moment, they wanted to get up and leave him there in his pity, without saying a word.

But something about him woke a sense of empathy in their chest.

"You should not belittle your feelings, Mirage."

They spoke with a voice that was soft yet they made sure to keep a somewhat distance in it.

"Yeah, well, it becomes a habit when you're always supposed to be the ever-entertaining showman. Not many people care to listen your life problems aside that", Mirage replied.

Bloodhound decided to shut off their rationality for a while.

"I'm listening."

Elliott realized that all too of a sudden only when he heard Bloodhound say it. He realized how much he had actually poured out his feelings to the person he looked at in arrogance and contempt (with a side of terror and something else which he didn't admit) just under 12 hours ago. He had no idea if they cared, if they didn't tell him to shut up just from sheer politeness, if they wished this match would be over already so they could get rid of him for the next weeks, wishing to never be assigned in the same squad with him again so that they could _actually_ fight and win, instead of sitting on the ground for half the Game and play a psychologist to a random feller with emotional baggage.

Indeed, this was something that neither of them had experienced ever before. The guns' strapped to their backs, with their weights reminded them of the job they were there to do. But otherwise they were almost lost in something else, like two recruits taking a cigarette break on boot camp but the break just goes on and on and except it would maybe not be a _cigarette_ break considering what had just happened. In the morning Elliott had expected to hear maybe three or four sentences from Bloodhound, only relating to the Game and maybe one or two bad jokes from his side and for Caustic, well, just to be Caustic.

What he didn't expect was Bloodhound saving him, Caustic back-stabbing them, him saving Bloodhound, Bloodhound having an asthma attack, him learning that they've apparently been through some shit but won't tell what and that they're kind of funny but really oblivious to this whole mess. And them learning that he had issues.

_Issues._

_Fuck this,_ Elliott thought.

It wasn't fair. He had no idea what they were really thinking of him. That mask hides everything. They might as well be laughing at him silently, judging him, pitying him or all three. If he had to pick one, it'd be the first one. The remaining two he had dealt on himself enough for one lifetime. 

Of course. Because that's what he had always been good at. Entertaining. Leaving people laughing at him.

But Elliott had to admit, all the secrecy made him now _really_ interested what was the reason that made Bloodhound join in the Apex Games. Judging from the reserved person they carried themselves in the public eye, it had to be something heavier. They always gave the interviewers statements only about the tactics they used in the battles which has gotten them so high up in the ranks and with pieces of advice regarding them. They always remained so professional and punctual in the articles, but humble in the way how there was never a sign of their position getting into their head. Polite, too, because from the hundreds of times they are asked what secrets are they hiding under the mask they never lose their patience but instead they always come up with a different answer every time, each more imaginative than the previous. If Elliott recalled correctly, the last one was "a cutlass." Well, they were politely threatening at least.

Fishing information about their motives - or how they managed to get here in the first place - was not the kind of a fish trip Elliott was going on right now. He had already found out enough for one day.

But he could always test the waters. Nothing wrong with that, right? The fish eats if it wants to eat. He's just casting the rod.

''And I myself can't help but to wonder what a mysterious Legend in a mask like yourself is doing out here? You don't exactly strike as someone doing this just to become a celebrity. That's what you are now, but I doubt the attention and spotlight were the kickstart.''

The fish ignores the bait, but is sure to slap it with its tail.

''Wonder as much as you wish", Bloodhound said. ''It's good for the soul.''

_Typical,_ Elliott hummed. ''Well, whatever it is, it's gotta be something wicked. No one, except maybe Octane, signed the papers merely for the fun of it. We're both wicked.''

Bloodhound ignored him.

But still, they can't get rid of it.

_The sense of... understanding. Knowing how it feels._

Some time after, they say something unexpected that makes Elliott flinch a bit.

"I am sorry to hear about your mother and your brothers, Mirage."

''And I wish that you find what you are searching for.''

They didn't sound cold nor harsh, there was not that coated steel and venom in their speech anymore. It was compassionate, tender even. The latter part held a melancholic emphasis of a different kind, which Elliott didn't quite know what to make of.

Elliott stammers before managing to come up with a sentence. "Huh? A-ah you don't- no need to- don't worry about it- but... thanks anyway, yeah." _They just shut me off for trying to say the same thing for them? Practice what you preach, pal..._

The sparrow that had accompanied them suddenly got startled from something and hurried away on its wings.

"Aw, gone so soon? Go on then about your day, with your little birdy bird business. Catch a worm, throw it up for your children, then eat your newborn or whatever y'all do. And before you start correcting me and flexing your bird-knowing skills Bloodhound, know that I was a boy scout and by the age of 10 I had learned to distinguish at least 3 different bird species from their singing alone. You got nothing on me."

Mirage deadpanned and pointed his finger at Bloodhound.

They are still gloomy about everything, but they had to admit that the jokester had something in him.

_He really is a fool, an avaricious man like the rest, a lost soul to the vain cause of temporal desires._

_But indeed, that soul happens to be quite charming._

And they make up their mind.

"I am most interested in your wildlife knowledge, Mirage. Perhaps you could elaborate on that tonight by a glass of whiskey and ale at the bar you mentioned?"

Elliott's heart skipped a beat.

_They said yes!_

He tried not to grin like an idiot. Suddenly all the negative thoughts disappeared, like a clear, blue sky had appeared after a storm. Just barely keeping his face straight, Elliott said: "P'rhaps I indeed shalt f'r thee. Prepare to be blown out of your mind tonight, hunter. With my vast collection of nature facts", he added very, very quickly.

In effort to not look like a complete idiot with the mixture of embarrassment and excitement on his face, Mirage changed the subject back to the Game again. He checked the squad counter on the mini-map device on his wrist, then poked it a few times to get any sign of it. Only thing that appeared on the screen was question marks. "The damn thing is broken again", he huffed.

Bloodhound followed and came to the same result as Mirage. "Mine seems not to be updating as well."

Mirage stretched his back. "They probably do this on purpose to add the extra stress. How nice of them."

Then the sirens blared.

* * *

_**Warning: Ring movement in progress.** _

* * *

''Man, I already started missing that lovely lady.''

"We should keep going then. We are outside the next one." Bloodhound noted.

Mirage agreed on that. "Yep, let's go. Also I definitely gotta step up my game and add some bodies on this kill count while I still can. I can't show my face back there with only one kill which I didn't even managed to pull off all by myself. Say bye-bye to the cute little cabin in the woods we never even stepped in to spend the rest of our lives together", he says while pointing at the lodge behind them. Bloodhound just shakes their head and swings their hand once at Mirage.

He grins again, then speaks. "Seriously though, where is everybody? Huh, I guess we really are the last ones standing, gotta admit I've never won a Game with sitting on my ass practically half of the round and cursing the system", he added lightly while getting on his feet. "Mama Witt would be proud, she was always kind of a rebel."

Then, a pull of a trigger proved Mirage wrong.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is ending up being darker than I thought. Haha edgy brain go brrrrr
> 
> But lmfao this is the longest chapter yet and they just sit through the whole thing
> 
> Anyway, when I started writing this and the previous chapter I had headcanoned Bloodhound with asthma and just a few days after that they released the BH's cinematic lore out of the blue and I was like 🤯🤯 bruh... such a coincidence actually, considering how BH got damaged with the coolant gas there - definitely caused them some sort of permanent lung injury, hence the gas mask they wear still years after that. And also because it looks cool. Ya.
> 
> I think there is more than just asthma as I wrote, but I haven't still come up with the details. They just want to beat everyone up in the Games, not get tangled in the corrupt scheme around it 😔✊
> 
> Also this chapter was first a lottttttt more wholesome but I decided that it suits better if there's still way more friction between them and BH being aloof to anything concerning their history... Yet.


	7. No Rest For The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw: blood, mild gore (? I'm not sure how to rate it but ppl get killed and it doesn't look pretty.)
> 
> Wow, this has been sitting in my drafts for an eternity. I only now got the time to start working on this fic again from all the university entrance examns yay... but jeez I'm so sorry this is already the 7th chapter and they're STILL in the same game 🤣 I thought I'd make it quicker to proceed to the stuff that's gonna happen when the match is over but here we are...
> 
> Also! I've been building a Spotify playlist of the songs that have been inspiring me and for just the overall vibe, check it out if you're interested :) Lots of these songs and soundtracks have had a big impact on what I've done and planning to do for this fic. Here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1lDsWruDc4Vtq2oTR9giyR?si=6_GotrjSQvmZWClu_PoFZg  
> it's really messy rn though, I'm striving to organize the songs to correspond the events chronologically at least some degree but for the time being, it's still pretty much a dump of everything thrown together :D  
> ahh... Florence + The Machine goes so hard for Miragehound *chef's kiss*
> 
> This whole thing is gonna be like super slow burn btw. I really want to take the time to build the relationship because at the same time with their relationship I'm trying to build some backstories for them both and yeah things will take some time. I just spent like 2 hours writing some lore even for Wraith that's gonna be a part of this fic in the great distance so. Things Will Take Time
> 
> Unless I change my mind, I've been planning for the next one or two chapters to be about BH's backstory, (mostly about their parents first) and something about Caustic too. And it's gonna get, uh, grim. So buckle up cowboys, though you're gonna have to wait because I still need to actually write the whole thing lol and it requires like 300x more brainwork than I've used for this so far. listen, this fic thing started as a oneshot and now that I've gone deeper I'm not coming back up
> 
> All kinds of feedback are always highly appreciated! 😊

* * *

A loud 'bam' cut the still air like a knife. The pair bolted on their feet in the same second. Before either could register which way the gun had gone off, another two shots were fired.

They both ducked. "Where are these coming from?! I meant the last one as a statement, not a request!" Mirage yelled.

Bloodhound was quick to act. They slammed their sonar device down and the red scanner instantly revealed the fact that they weren't alone.

''Three hostiles in the northwest of us!'' they informed.

Mirage spotted the squad around 100 meters from them, up a grassy hill on the open field. The bullets just kept flying but they also kept missing them, and not even that close. The attackers seemed to be somewhat rookies - rookies who had done a good job to last this long in the match, but the excitement tends to backfire on the overconfident newcomers.

''Wow, they're nervous. But it's still three against two, maybe would be a wise idea to get to cover first-''

As a response to Mirage's proposal, with a swift motion Bloodhound took their Longbow out and wrapped their hands on it effortlessly as if it weighed as much as a broomstick. Before Mirage could really register it, they fell into a perfect posture and in cold blood, they landed a clean shot through one of the squad member's forehead. Mirage saw the contestant's neck snap back, then him lurching backwards a few steps and finally dropping down like a rag doll, a hole in the head and a red splatter gushing from it. His two partners turned to their instantly killed teammate, looking as dumbfounded as Mirage was. With the escort of the long-lasting ringing echo of the fired sniper rifle and the sound of a _thud_ as its victim fell to the ground, the air went dead quiet. No one let a peep out, not to mention nobody moving even an inch out of shock, fear and every other strange sensation that filled the empty air. The shocked duo on the hill didn't even get a chance of reviving their fallen teammate who just a short moment after dematerialized on the spot.

Bloodhound eventually broke the silence they had caused between the two engaging squads.

''I prefer to even things out first.''

Mirage blinked as he broke free from his trance.

_Holy shit._

''Okay then, show-off, let's do this your way! But make sure to leave some for the rest of us... which is me and my other me's!'' he panted out a laugh.

''You didn't wanna get in cover so I guess I'll have to set one up for us here, then. It's dupes o'clock!''

He had been waiting for this moment the whole match. Mirage activated his Ultimate and now it was Bloodhound's turn to stare at him astounded.

Except that they don't actually stare at _him_ , Bloodhound looks at what must have been ten replicas of Mirage surrounding them, mimicking one another at every single move. They jog around Bloodhound in a circle, back and forth, perfectly synchronized.

Of course, Bloodhound knew that the holographic trickster wasn't called that for nothing, they had seen his holo-technology in action before. But they had never seen it do anything like _this_ before. Their first instinct was to flinch at the absurd sight, then rapidly waver around to every direction in total bewilderment, hands unintentionally gripping the Longbow harder.

The decoys looked flawlessly realistic at first glance. They were dressed in the very same yellow-black, patched-up jumpsuits that hugged their bodies quite shamelessly. The handsomely boyish, caramel-toned faces carried the same, a little ragged but strong and defiant features that had been photographed from probably every possible angle for the Apex magazines. The chiseled jawlines were covered in the short boxed beards, styled forms more shaggy now from all the action endured today. Even the three scars hadn't been left out - one ran down from their left brow and eye, another one across their left cheek and the final one plastered over the little bump on their sturdy noses. From the partly shaved heads the thick, dark chocolate brown curls settled over the goggles onto the right side of their faces, and under the smug brows the playful eyes glimmered. The look was finished when they all flashed a smile with those white pearls at the same time, grinning like a bunch of Cheshire cats that circled an alley dog they had tricked into their lair.

It reminded Bloodhound of a certain god...

_Ótrúlegt!_

They looked exactly like Mirage, they analyzed. The hunter only then caught a thin light-blue border outlining the holograms. The real deal wasn't among them. They slowly lowered the sniper rifle and searched for any signs of their companion.

''Where... _are_ _you_?''

''Right behind you.''

Bloodhound turned on instant to the direction of the sound.

''You like it? Worked real hard on this one'', Mirage's recognizable voice called in front of them, but the man himself was not anywhere to be seen.

''You should see your face, you look like you had seen a ghost! Well... not that I can see your face but, the ghost part is accurate to some degree. Renee might be called Wraith, but I'm the real spook of this circus. Or as I like to call it... _The Phantom of the Opera_. And before you start being smart - no, I haven't read the thing.''

Two fake-Mirage's vanished as the remaining squad members had started shooting at them again.

"Fooled ya!"

''I... have never seen this before'', Bloodhound couldn't help but breathe after being recovered from the initial shock as they observed Mirage's decoys, figuring that he had coded them to imitate his every move while being cloaked himself. "It is... they are... very strange, Mirage. Very strange, but outstanding in the oddest form of modern technology."

Mirage smirked right in front of Bloodhound's face, which they couldn't see.

''That's what I said I'm here to do, right? Also told ya I was better at engineering and holographs. And you're the lucky guest who got to see the sweet little upgrade before everyone else so consider yourself special. But these diamonds ain't gonna last forever, so let's get this party started!''

''Party... rock?'' Bloodhound asked coyly the cloaked man in front of them, while smoothly dodging the poorly-aimed shots from left and right.

''Party rock'', Mirage repeated firmly.

"Let me join you, then."

"Oh, you- you sure you can handle it? I mean I'm cool if you're cool but you just had an ast- ...yeah okay, nevermind."

Mirage wasn't sure why he even bothered to ask because they were clearly not up for the debate. The next thing he saw was Bloodhound pressing down the same device on their wrist that seemingly released something in their system. Elliott always wondered what the hell it was that they got on. Drugs? Steroids? Pure lack of interest in having the physical capabilities and limits of a human?

His speculations didn't matter right now, because for the second time today, the Beast of the Hunt nonetheless started to emerge from its host body right after Bloodhound had summoned it. It took maybe seven to eight seconds to reach all of its terrifying might and now there wasn't just Bloodhound facing Mirage anymore, there was a _Beast_ and a _Hound_ packed together. The deep growl surfacing from the depths of the superhuman entity coupled with Bloodhound's hollow lenses on their mask now blazing with scarlet and carmine sent chills down Mirage's see-through spine, goosebumps of a kind he recalled he had never experienced before in the Ring. The supernatural, red-eyed being stared right through his body, almost eye to eye level, without being aware of it themself.

_''I am Bloth Hoondr!''_

Mirage gulped and decided to calm himself down by cracking a joke.

"Hey, we're like Bonnie and Clyde except we're Blud-thunder and Phantom. Let's give the poor freshmen a taste of your Hulk juice and my _Mirage à trois_. Wait, what's 8 in French again? Because they're gonna fight eight of me at once. Wait, nope, sorry, it's six now, the kids actually hit more targets on their shooting practice field trip. Anyway, remind me to ask Natalie."

Mirage wasn't sure if Bloodhound was listening to him or if they could even hear him over their deep, bestial breathing. The hunter had one objective now, and they didn't even need to track down the prey that had already made their way to them. Mirage thought that must be a disappointment in a game of hunt that everything seemed to be for them here, but then again, they also seemed to be the type to put a wounded deer out of its misery without messing around.

The two young men, neither looking past the age of 21, other armed with a soiled VK-47 Flatline and the second wielding a Mozambique had reached their enemies, only for their faces ending up looking as pale as death when they saw what they were against.

''What kind of bullshit is this!?'' the short but stout man with a military-like shaved head managed to spat out. He looked like he had been rolling in a mud puddle of piranhas with his assault rifle, cuts all over his face and cargo pants covered in a mixture of dirt and blood.

Behind him stood a taller and lankier male, wavy medium-length blonde hair slicked back, and he presented a more frightened than exasperated expression on his face than that of his counterpart. His head turned back and forth on the clones, and wary eyes widened when straight through one of the smug-looking holographs walked the person who had obliterated their squadmate like a professional hitman. The hunter left a red trail behind them and every step they took their breathing grew more feral, and Mirage could swear the guy was now in a need of underwear change.

The tall man stiffened and hastily raised his trembling hands to aim the Mozambique at Bloodhound. He was unable to pull the trigger, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

''A... m-monster...''

''You idiot, why aren't you shooting!?'' the temperamental hothead snapped at his partner. He shoved the paralyzed man out of the way and raised his Flatline at the approaching enemy.

''Come and get it, freak! I don't care what kind of a trick you and your buddy are pulling here, you don't scare me, whatever god-forsaken thing you are! You got fucked in the ass by the Antichrist, demon?''

Before he could fire his gun, Bloodhound lunged forward and grabbed the man by his throat by one hand. They slammed his body to the ground with a heavy blow. The glowing red lenses drilled into the man's eyes and that alone looked like it could have sucked the soul out of him.

The pinned male under Bloodhound grunted in their grasp and now undeniable fear had taken much of the annoyance's place. His words didn't show it, but the large eyes that gawked at his predator gave it away.

''What... the hell... are you?'' he wheezed.

Bloodhound granted answer to their prey, all while keeping it firmly in place.

'' _I_ _am the hunter the gods have sent._ ''

They sounded different when they were in their Ultimate, their voice was strangely calm combined with wildness. It was out of this world, divine but untamed. It was almost like they were a god themself among the deities they worshipped, a god who was given the gift of nature.

The man coughed a few times from his squeezed throat. He spat right in the middle of Bloodhound's mask.

''More like... a druggie in a gas mask... the Devil has possessed...'' he hissed in return.

The Beast decided their victim had talked enough. They pulled their knife out and sunk it into his chest. The same way as before in the match, Bloodhound covered his mouth, muffling his shriek. The man's eyes, showing no defiance and disrespect anymore, looked like they were about to pop out of his skull.

They moved their head in closer.

'' _You are insolent and have a lot to learn, but_ _you fought. This makes you brave, and no coward_ '', they murmur to him.

The stabbed ruffian looks at Bloodhound for a couple of seconds in confusion, then in terror and awe. It doesn't take long until his body fades away to nothingness and a death box materializes next to where his corpse was.

The one last remaining teammate is now even more terrified than moments before, but the adrenaline rushing to his blood finally snaps him out of his incapacitated state. 

Instead of choosing a taunting approach like his companion, he raises the shotgun pistol again and forces himself to fire it at the Legend in the mask. Bloodhound is quick to dodge the bullet but also misfortunate to bump into the death box which makes them stumble on their feet. They get back up right away and hurry to grab their Peacekeeper, but before they can shoot it at the contestant, he shoots first. The bullet from the pistol however never hits its target, because one of the many Mirage's run in front of it. The decoy vanishes from the hit, and both hear the voice of the holographic trickster - Bloodhound in front of them and the other contestant behind him.

''Behind you, blondie!''

The man responds to the call by turning around to it but can't find its owner.

"Here, boy!" he hears from another direction.

He whirls around again but the trickster is still nowhere to be seen. The man panics and not knowing what to do, he resorts in firing at the few decoys still left.

"Abracadabra, beanpole!"

Mirage's cloak wears off a moment after and is then face-to-face with the contestant. He points the gun at Mirage in vain, because the same second he gets a fist in his face. He staggers backwards from the punch and Mirage gets his chance to take out the R-301.

"Shouldn't have brought a Mozambique to a circus show, kid", Mirage says to the nervous wreck clutching his bleeding nose. He almost feels bad.

The man drops his weapon and it bounces off the ground.

"I give up, please don't kill me dude, I'm begging you-"

Before Mirage has time to process what he said, he had already sprayed a series of bullets to the pleading person's upper body, tearing holes to the clothes and flesh until the poor man falls down.

He screams in pain until his whole body judders from it.

Mirage doesn't only get annoyed, but concerned, too.

"Hey shut it, would you, you doofus, you're gonna attract a freaking Prowler with all that screeching-"

The man on the ground is unable listen to him in his state.

"P-please, I'm dying, God, I-I- I don't want to die! Mom-"

Elliott winces.

He is drawn back, but without a second thought he rushes to the hysterical man lying on his shaking back and kneels next to him.

"Hey, hey, shhh, it's alright, you're alright kid! Is this your first match? Remember this is not real, you're not dying, you're gonna wake up in no time in the ward. It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay, trust me!" he soothed as gently as he could the stranger while holding his trembling hand.

Mirage noted how his smooth pale skin, covered in red freckles, made him look even younger than the poor boy already must be. It twisted his stomach into knots.

_Callum had freckles that always looked like they were glowing at sunsets like this-_

And everything felt surreal.

"Mom, I don't... I don't want... to die..." the breaking voice of the young man whispers. His emerald eyes gazed somewhere way past Mirage, almost like searching for something or someone.

He coughs up more blood, and some of it lands on Mirage's face.

It wasn't surreal.

It was now all too real to Elliott and like time, he freezes.

At an inhumane speed, something flashes by in the corner of his eye. That something strikes their hand, wielding a blade to the man's heart, making Mirage flinch and jump back.

The stabbed contestant does not scream, does not even gasp. He just watches, and the last thing he sees is the red-eyed being watching back. The dark figure cast a long shadow over him and he was now glued to the glowing embers above.

"Are you... an angel?" he breathed.

" _No_." Bloodhound says and thrustes the blade deeper.

The man's breathing stops then. His face twisted into a morbid sight, leaving the eyes and mouth wide open. Mirage had to turn his head away and he suppressed the sudden wave of nausea, forcing himself to swallow the bitter-tasting acidic fluid down his throat it had made its way to.

_Fucking hell, that's gonna come back haunting..._

Eventually, but not soon enough, the last one dematerializes away the same way his other squad members had done. Finally, nothing is left of the squad but their supplies in their death boxes.

Mirage got on his shaking feet and looked at the scene. He took a few deep breaths and wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand. 

_Shit, they looked way too young to be here. The asshole at least had the confidence that can carry you to a certain point, but Goldilocks here isn't going to last long,_ he frowned to himself. _But didn't I use to be the same now, did I..._

It was one thing to face your friends in the Ring, but another one to kill the newcomers and having to see the same fear in their eyes that you once had. Especially when they seem like they were suited better for a job at the florist's rather than enlisting themself to play a serial killer to the point they start believing they actually are one.

He turned to Bloodhound, who had one knee still on the ground. The red glow had disappeared and they were slowly returning back to their normal state.

After their Ultimate had worn off completely, they rose up.

"Are you alright?"

Mirage jumped a bit when he felt Bloodhound's hand on his shoulder.

"Y-yeah, fit as a fiddle."

They pulled their hand away and suddenly coughed three times, enough to make Elliott worry.

"Uh, you-you good yourself?"

"That was a skillful performance, Mirage", they said breathing somewhat heavy, not answering his question. "Although, I had the situation under control, you did not have to."

Elliott flashed a weary smile.

"Come on, you'd have a hole in your body from a _Mozambique_ if it wasn't for me. And you seriously think I would have let you wipe three guys out on your own while just standing by and cheering for you? I'd rather let a Prowler take a bite off my ass."

He realized Bloodhound had still taken out 2 out of 3 and struck the final blow to the third.

"Eh, you know what, it doesn't matter, they were rookies and pretty shitty at it. They wouldn't have made your résumé of all the people you have killed here any more praiseworthy", he shrugged off.

Bloodhound picked up the knife from the ground.

"Their deaths still carry honor", they stated while examining the blade.

"And Elliott?"

At the sound of his real name coming from Bloodhound, Elliott's heart skipped a beat.

"Next time, do not let your victim suffer."

Elliott felt a drop in his chest from the way they delivered their message. He expected Bloodhound to say something more like a piece of constructive criticism, not a straight up a warning or a threat, even.

"Yeah, yeah..."

He knew they were right, but came up with a snarky comment anyway to hide the reason for his helplessness.

"In my defense, I may have been a boy scout but we weren't taught how to skin a living bear as ethically as possible like you probably were by the time you had learned to walk, heh."

Bloodhound's words made Mirage remember something he had wanted to ask but couldn't in the heat of the battle.

''That reminds me... why do you do that?''

''Clean off the blood of my enemy off my weapon? I don't particularly enjoy the stench.'' Bloodhound said back darkly again but with an unexpected tone of humor in it, while wiping the knife with a cloth they apparently carried around for that purpose.

Mirage rolled his eyes and gestured mindlessly something with his hands, not being sure what exactly. He then settled to just folding his arms.

''No smartass, that... that thing you said there. Those guys were like two kids who had found their old man's rifle and handgun from the car's glove box and just went nuts with them. And correct me if I'm wrong but the other one called you - to quote - a 'god-forsaken thing' and a 'druggie in a gas mask'. And you called him brave while cradling him in your arms like he was an orphan left on your doorstep in the middle of a cold night in December?''

Bloodhound hummed and sighed in a playful tone while rubbing the blade delicately like it was a silver butter knife they were polishing. Only it was pointier. And deadlier.

They stopped for a second to inspect their weapon again. The rays of the evening sun danced on the steel surface, midst the few streaks of crimson.

"I suppose not many good orphanage keepers strike a dagger in their foster children's chests...''

''Only if they're naughty and say a bad word.'' Mirage quipped back.

He didn't realize how his undivided attention was given to the red gloved fingers handling the knife in front of him.

The brunet blinked when a mechanic-ish sound of blown air came through Bloodhound's mask. He translated it as a "fair enough". From the lack of further discussion, Elliott thought that was the only thing he would be getting out of the embodiment of a question mark, until Bloodhound did provide Elliott with the actual answer.

''Anyhow, I believe that the concept of sportsmanship should endure in the Games, no matter who happens to be at the end of your scope.''

''In other words, you believe in some kind of Fellowship of the Apex Games? Even if some of them are total dickbags?'' Mirage inquiried.

Bloodhound sighed airily again. ''If the constant references to popular culture are what makes you grasp my notions better, then yes.''

Mirage scratched his chin. ''Well ain't that mighty interesting... gotta say I didn't think you as the one striving to make friends here-''

''And you again remain correct in your assumptions about me.''

Bloodhound's last words left the conversation at that and they placed their knife back to its holster. They strapped their combat backpack on their back again and adjusted the Peacekeeper and the Longbow on themself. Mirage decided to keep himself busy as well and went on to check for if there was any light ammo in the Buzz Cut's death box.

Bloodhound's statement nevertheless lingered in his chest, stirring up quite the mess of mixed signals.

_So they don't want anything to do with anyone here but they're still going out for drinks with me and possibly the others tonight? Aight, this is going to be one awkward night-out..._

"Do you have everything you need?" Bloodhound asked with their back still turned on Mirage.

"Sure, I'm all set. They didn't carry anything useful. Ready when you are."

"Would you like a food ration bar? They had plenty of those. You should eat something, it has been a long day for both of us."

Mirage would have lied if he said he didn't feel a spark of warmth inside of him from his teammate's gesture of concern, but he had to decline. His appetite was long gone.

"Nah, I'm... not hungry."

Bloodhound turned around and nodded at their teammate. They took their mini-map out and examined it.

"The Ring is closing onto us soon, and we need to get all the way to Overlook. I propose we bypass the Capitol from its southern side and take the train from there, should the fate favor us."

"Shouldn't we just go through Epicenter? It's the direct way and the fastest too, right?" Mirage questioned. "Look, I don't wanna be disrespectful to your gods but I doubt they have a word in the train's timetable."

Bloodhound was still for a moment before answering.

"...No." they declined flatly.

"Why not?" Mirage pressed.

"I prefer not to."

"Well _I_ prefer us not burning alive outside the Ring when there's no train or a god in an SUV to pick us up at the station?"

He spoke up again when Bloodhound fell silent.

"Look, I'm just kidding. I'm fine with whatever, as long as we get going. I just don't get what you got against Epicenter. The place is cool as hell. I mean, literally. And it looks so pretty, too. Why don't we take that route just for the sake of the scenery? To get some fresh air, too. That should be good for you at least, right? The Capitol has probably been burned down by now and I think the ashes will just fuck you up more with that broken mask of yours. Plus, Caustic's farts must still be floating in there. Ew."

"...Mirage, I-"

* * *

Bloodhound never finishes the sentence when their whole body suddenly jerks. The same second the familiar, piercing sound of gunshots rang through the air.

This time, they didn't miss.

"Bloodhound!!!" Mirage yelled when their partner yelped from pain. He caught them before they could fall down.

Bloodhound's right shoulder and left calf had taken the hit. Mirage felt the spot on their shoulder go damp, eventually staining his hand with blood.

‘’Oh for fuck's sake, is one minute of not getting killed too much to ask?!’’ he cried out, holding Bloodhound in his arms.

They wheezed and breathed heavily into Elliott’s chest. "...you already-... forgot what you signed the papers for-...?"

''Now's not the time for smart-ass remarks, Hound!''

Bloodhound swore in their native tongue against Elliott’s body. He couldn’t figure out what the words meant but from the sound of it, they were upset to put it mildly.

They cursed the gods. They would be in a better shape if it wasn’t for the previous asthma attack, a bullet or two usually didn't stop them otherwise, and the situation made them infuriated.

"Hold on hold on!!" Mirage shouted and laid Bloodhound on the ground. He took out his R-301 and aimed it to the squad on the same hill the previous one had been. They were barely distinguishable but still dangerously close - and it was about to be 3 against 1.

"Ugh, this one is so not designed for a range like this but- what?!"

Mirage pulled the trigger multiple times but nothing happened.

The gun was jammed!

"Are you fuckin' serious?!" he growled at the weapon. The G7 Scout he had picked up at the beginning of the match had been left on the destroyed office so he was out of luck.

"Plan B, plan B, plan B...!"

Mirage suddenly remembered he had found some grenades earlier and he thrust his hand into his backpack's side pockets. He got hold of the two Thermite grenades. ‘’These babies should slow them down just a little!’’, he said and threw the grenades as far as he could, in the direction where he saw the shapes of the running contestants growing bigger. The grenades hit the ground and exploded on impact creating a burning wall of fire, large enough to hold off the attackers for a while. He then sent one of his decoys in the same direction. "Go and bamboozle them, darling! But don't run into the fire jackass!"

Mirage placed Bloodhound next to him and raised their shoulder over his and his hand on their waist. ‘’Okay playtime’s over, now is the time to get inside!’’ he exclaimed.

At least they hadn’t losen consciousness again, now that would have made the situation even more hopeless.

Mirage helped them to stumble over the cottage’s porch. He kicked the door open and closed it as quickly. He tossed the malfunctioned assault rifle aside and helped the shaking Bloodhound to lay down in front of the entrance. The dark bloodstain on their shoulder and leg was growing second by second.

‘’No, let me get up, I will not allow you to fight them all by yourself’’, Bloodhound protested between the heavy breathing. They squirmed under Mirage and he had to physically restrain them against the floor and the wall so that they wouldn’t jump back on their feet with whatever unbelievable piece of strength their gods had given them.

Mirage’s eye twitched. He couldn’t believe that Bloodhound had the nerve _or_ the physical force to still resist.

_Just how stubborn can they possibly be, with one foot in the grave like this?!_

‘’Hey may I remind you that you just almost died from asphyxiation and a hole in your shoulder and leg don’t exactly tell you to engage?!’’ he snapped back and tried to hold them down from their uninjured shoulder and the other hand’s wrist, gently enough not to add more to the pain they were already in. Mirage expected Bloodhound to punch him in the jaw anytime now to free themself, but whatever kept them from not doing that, he thanked it.

When Mirage was content that their obstinate colleague would stay still for a moment, he pulled himself back and took out his backpack to search for any syringes.

He hissed in stress. ‘’My stupid gun is jammed anyways and I’m not good enough with shotguns to take down three people so you can forget any chances we’re going to put up a fight here. If I could just find the goddamn meds and get you back on your feet so we could at least try to get the hell away from here-’’

Bloodhound wheezed under their mask. ‘’I can still fight-’’

‘’No you can’t, end of the story’’, Mirage told them now flatly, not even looking at them, like they were a stubborn teen begging for permission from their parent to do a backflip off the roof. "The only thing you are going to do now is to lay down there nicely and let this nurse take care of you", he ordered, then felt the throbbing heat rising to his ears at the instant he realized how the way he had put out his words was... ambiguous, to say the least. He pursed his lips so hard that not another ill-advised word could escape from them.

_Sweet mother of Christ I should've just been born without a tongue..._

Mirage huffed in frustration when the combat backpack seemed to have nothing but some ammo, for some reason plenty of Arc Stars (Mirage perplexed at how he for some ungodly reason ends up stuffing his backpack with useless Arc Stars every single match), and dust and pebbles stored inside of it. ‘’Dang, I’m sure I had at least one syringe here, where did it go?!’’ He stopped for a second and sighed.

‘’Well, if we go down, we go down. That’s just how it goes, but at least we tried our best. Not that the magazines really care about that, but I figured you’re not the type to care about the headlines’’, he stated, hands in the bag again searching desperately.

 _It’s okay to lose sometimes,_ Elliott wanted to add but kept it to himself.

Their situation was looking grim, indeed. As Bloodhound had been shot in the shoulder and leg, there was no way they could be of any use in a firefight nor in running. Not to mention the asthma attack they just suffered was one reason enough to put them in a hospital bed. They didn’t want to admit it but Mirage was right, they were not in any condition to fight. The hostiles would surely be very soon at their throats, there was no way Mirage could heal them with a syringe fast enough. It would take too long and even after that they would get knocked down again from one or two hits.

Bloodhound grit their teeth. They absolutely despised losing like this, like a wounded prey waiting for the predators to come and put them out of their misery. But they were out of options.

_Unless…_

‘’Mirage, d-do you happen to have any grenades left?’’ Bloodhound suddenly grunted out, still lying against the wall in front of the door.

‘’Yeah, I apparently grabbed like five Arc Stars from the City, not that they’ve been any use of, why?’’, he answered in a rush, focus still in the backpack.

Bloodhound pointed to the other side of the room. ‘’Go all the way over there.’’

Mirage turned his head to Bloodhound now. ‘’Uh, what’s the plan here captain?’’ he asked skeptically.

‘’I’m buying us more time. Now go, would you!?’’ they pleaded vigorously in return.

Their dominant tone made Mirage give in and retreat reluctantly to the corner.

‘’Would you give me three of the explosives, please?’’ they then asked.

‘’Sure, but I hope your plan isn’t to fight a whole team with three Arcs Stars after an asthma attack and all while bleeding out?!’’ Mirage hissed desperately from the other side of the room.

‘’It isn’t. Now hand them over, we do not have much time!’’ they urged, hand clutching their bleeding shoulder.

‘’I hope you know what you’re doing here, buddy… catch!’’ Mirage slid the throwable steel grenades over the floor to Bloodhound, carefully to not set them off.

Bloodhound grabbed the Stars in an instant. They plunged their Peacekeeper over the floor to Mirage in return. ‘’Take this.’’

‘’Wha-’’ Mirage blurted out in confusion when the gun bumped to his combat boots.

They held the Stars in their hand and pointed their index finger upwards. ‘’Listen closely to what we are going to do. When these go off, take my banner and go to the second floor and jump off the balcony. The nearest Respawn Beacon is around Refinery, we’ll meet there.’’ they rasped out.

‘’Hey hey hey, what do you mean ‘’these go off’’ ‘’take my banner’’ and "jump off the balcony?!’’ Mirage protested with the shotgun he had hesitantly picked up.

Bloodhound then tossed two Stars with their good arm to the floor and the third next to them on the wall, all roughly a two-feet distance from them. The Arc Stars stuck to the surfaces and started charging.

Mirage’s jaw dropped. ‘’Bloodhound, _what the fuck?!_ ’’

‘’Do as I say! Take the banner and go!’’ they shouted, taking one final look at the baffled Legend opposite to them.

Mirage flung his arm over his face by reflex as the charged Arc Stars exploded with a loud blast. They killed Bloodhound instantly - but their body took all the damage, the explosion didn’t destroy the door just as they had calculated. A death box popped into their place and it appeared straight in front of the door, blocking it.

Mirage was speechless.

‘’O-oh holy hell… hold on, is that even allowed?" he stressed.

One could get into serious trouble outside the island if they ended their Game with their own hand. Bloodhound's plan wasn't that, but the supervisors usually did judge the matches from their own viewpoints, after all.

"Well I'll be damned, that’s one clever bastard’’, he marveled at Bloodhound’s ingenuity, still in shock from the move they just pulled. ‘’Crazy, but clever. That’s also one very sturdy door, nice work on the engineering there’’, he noted.

‘’Well, got no time to waste here. Stay calm Elliott, they’re not dead, they’re not dead, they're just not existing for a while’’, he panted. "Yeah, doesn't sound spooky at all..."

Bloodhound had pulled off their stunt just in time, the squad had now arrived outside the hut to get their kills. They desperately tried to knock the door down, but the crate held it in its place as a barricade - not letting anyone through.

Mirage rushed over to the death box to get Bloodhound’s banner out of it. ‘’Come on, come on, come on…’’ he sweated when fumbling over the box, trying to get his shaking hands to find the right button to hand out the storage device. The loud banging on the door didn’t exactly help him to concentrate.

Then, a gunfight was heard outside and Mirage heard bodies hit the floor on the other side. Who the hell did that? he thought just as he yanked the respawn card out from the dispenser. Thank you stranger but I ain’t staying here a second longer!

The person then tried to open the door as well, in vain. They jerked the handle furiously but didn’t get in. ‘’Sorry, occupied!’’ Mirage shouted as he started sprinting to the stairs, the shotgun in the other hand and the gadget in other. He basically leaped to halfway the staircase, just a few steps more and he would’ve made it.

But then, to Mirage’s misfortune, he noticed a faint blue trail on his right outrunning him. ‘’Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me’’, he groaned, realizing who it was.

* * *

A teleport formed in front of Mirage at the stairhead, making him halt. A familiar figure hopped from the void, sweeping Mirage off his feet with her own foot, resulting in him falling down the stairs all the way to the down floor with a series of pain-emphasized sounds. The other Legend aimed her Hemlok at him from the top.

"Surpri-" came from her mouth, never finishing the quip when she recognized her best friend. Her irises shifted from the ghostly Alice blues to her own azure blues. "Oh, _fuck._ "

"Hello to you too, sunshine", Mirage groaned from the ground below, not happy to see her here either. He rubbed his aching forehead and cussed from the stinging sensation.

‘’That’s gonna leave a bruise and a bump for sure. Geez, thanks Renee, I’m gonna look like molded cheese for the whole holiday. You think chicks and dudes dig a guy that looks like molded cheese? Huh? You think? No, you did this on purpose, you sly bastard, youuuuuuuu.’’

Elliott growled at his unimpressed friend from the floor and shook his finger at her. He looked and sounded like a twisted, evil priest cursing her to hell below, but she knew that he wasn't serious. He flashed a smug smile at Elliott and Elliott returned it immediately.

The woman sighed.

"Out of every possible outcome, it just had to be you, didn't it," Wraith muttered from the second floor and lowered her weapon.

"Hey, you can't miss out on someone so special like me."

"Cursed be my choices, then." Wraith gave him a tired but genuine smile again. She walked downstairs and pulled Mirage back on his feet.

Wraith looked at the door.

‘’Huh, so that got me my kills’’, she said when she spotted the blockade.

She walked around the room. "What happened? I saw you getting teamed up with Caustic and Bloodhound, where are they?" Wraith questioned, lurking around the place like a cat, searching for any clues. Her eyes widened as she saw whose death box was blocking the door. "Wait, don't tell me _they're_ out and you're not?", she expressed in disbelief but apologized quickly and genuinely. "Sorry, no offense."

Mirage sighed and furrowed his brows, trying to swallow the fact that he’d just lost the winning chances for him and Bloodhound. He felt bad - the hunter was so full of fight and spirit to the end. Even after all the hardships they had gone through in this match, they showed zero intentions of giving up. He might’ve snapped at their stubbornness a bit, but he had to admit that it made them live up to their reputation. And perhaps it made something else live, too. The tingles in his stomach were alive and kicking.

Mirage rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Bloodhound had every right to deserve the victory, and he blew it up by being incapable of pulling a gun on his best friend who should be his enemy on the Arena.

Suddenly Elliott found himself admiring Bloodhound. They were so _good_ at this. So much better than him, he thought. Their persistence in battle, their fearlessness, their respect towards their kills, their charm, their hands… wait, what? Mirage’s cheeks started suddenly heating when he remembered Bloodhound’s hands on him when they saved him from the sniper. And then right after, an ache of empathy and a pang of somewhat irrational guilt in his heart when he remembered how they were forced to expose something about themself they definitely were not planning on.

But they had still trusted him enough to reveal something about their past, even if it was the tip of the iceberg. Or mountain. Or just a rock. Hell, he had no idea what was under the surface. And he probably never will.

But maybe he had done something right, after all.

Mirage snapped out of it when he realized his friend-foe was staring at him interrogatively.

"Oh yeah, hah, none taken. And uh, that's a bit of a long story… like, long-long. Things started going south when Caustic's stank ass almost got us killed in Capitol, I'll catch you later on that. But get this, Bloodhound just basically blew themself up with Arc Stars to make their death box block the door so the guys you killed couldn't get in."

Wraith's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's pretty kick-ass. But reckless for sure, I'm not sure if the inspectors allow that since it sounds kinda uh… the easy way out without context."

Mirage nodded in agreement. "Yeah, say no more. You should've seen them, they were bleeding like crazy and still putting up a fight against me when I tried to hold them down to heal them, and they told me to take their banner and basically throw myself out from the second floor and then they just frigging yeeted themself out to barricade the entrance. Well, here's hoping they're not going to get into trouble in there…"

"Hah, it was time someone got your ass handed to you. I gotta shake Bloodhound's hand after this is over."

"Jesus woman, can you get any edgier!? You're like the female version of Sasuke who got trapped into a different dimension. You literally look like him, sound like him, and even run like him. There you go, no need to thank me for discovering your backstory."

The two friends stare at each other for a second until both burst out laughing. And they laugh and laugh, even though the joke wasn't even that funny and for that moment, they forgot they were not pitted against in a killing ring.

After calming down, something crawls into Elliott's consciousness when Bloodhound's death box catches his eye.

Their earlier conversation about the possibilities of a malfunction in the respawn tech gnawed in the back of his mind. No such incident had never happened before, calm down, he repeated to himself.

Still, his heart started pounding.

_Please get back safe in there in the first place..._

Elliott forced himself back to it and made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Anyway, this has been a real lovely time m'lady but we got no more time for catching up right now. Your squad is probably somewhere close, and it would be kinda awkward if they storm here to us having a relaxing cup of chamomile tea when we should be…"

"...I know, I know." Wraith finished his sentence for him, catching the drift.

Both Legends fell silent. They knew it had to be done. The longer they waited, the harder it would become.

‘’Should’ve just finished the job while you were at it, Renee…’’ Mirage said in hindsight. He usually avoided calling the Apex contestants by their real names in the Arena in order to not contribute to the illusion of feeling like you're killing your friends in there, but on Wraith, he always slipped on accident - and vice versa.

The woman opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it. She knew he was right.

"No need to toss the coin this time. You have the advantage already. I bet that tin can is going to impale me through the window with his gross wire ropes any time now. So, would you be so kind as to do the honors first?" Mirage persuaded, fluttering his long eyelashes.

Wraith frowned. "Don't you dare go giving me those puppy eyes again Eli or spitting any bullshit about tossing coins because you know damn well that it’s _me_ who always has to kill you when this happens. Can't you just make your decoys go against you and have them take you out or something?"

"Ah-ah-ah, watch it gangster, you just said yourself those kinds of things are a no-no in the rules", he berated and shook his finger at her. "Plus, it wouldn't make me look good in the news. That would make a headline so dark mom would walk all by herself here, drag my ass home and never let me step outside the family house again. Don't wanna make her worry about me any more than she already does."

"Yeah, okay, okay, I get it. Still, you know this isn't easy for me either", she said quietly.

"Come on Renee, you gotta be the one to do it, man. You were always the stronger one of us. Don't you go soft on me now, tough girl, show me that war face will you?", Elliott smiled bittersweetly.

Wraith grit her teeth and tried to fight her visible disagreement. She knitted her brows and clenched the Hemlok tighter in her hands, hating that the Season had to end like this.

" _It will be okay, Re_ ", Elliott soothed.

The woman finally gave up and gave a frustrated growl. She unfreed one hand from the Hemlok and clenched it into a fist so hard Elliott swore her knuckles were now the same color as the gloves on her hands. He thought for a second that she was going to beat him to death with that fist but then she just jerked it up and popped out an index finger. She pointed it at Mirage vigorously like she was holding him at knifepoint with it.

"Fine. But I swear, if your dead body comes to haunt me in my sleep every night for the next two weeks like all the last times I've had to put the bullet in your head, I will whoop your ass so hard backwards you'll never make me do the dirty work again when we meet in the Ring. Mark my words, Elliott Robin Witt."

_There's the Renee I know,_ Elliott smiled to himself when he saw the dark sparks and defiance storming in the woman's otherwise sky blue eyes like the time he had seen them when they first met.

"You got it, boss", he laughed and gave her a wink. His lips curled to a wistful smile as he took Renee's fist and gave it a reassuring shake. "Go and win this wretched thing. You can buy me a drink tonight with them credits."

"Not so fast. You owe me like ten drinks, dude. I also have a rent to pay, if I may remind you." she retorted and pulled the hand away.

"All the more reasons for you to get the big score, then! And better pull that trigger ASAP before you turn on the waterworks like last time, you don't want Ajay to see a crybaby-Wraith when she gets here now do you? Wait, scratch that, I think it would actually be kinda cute! I can be your wingman, girls love it when you show your vulnerable si-"

Suddenly Mirage made it so much easier for Wraith to fire the gun at him.

She still had to turn her head away. She, too, was never going to get used to it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ótrúlegt - unbelievable
> 
> That one screenshot of someone's Uber text message but it's "The Allfather is now arriving in a Honda Accord"
> 
> I deadass almost wrote the line "Bloodhound studied the blade" 💀
> 
> Also Season 5 Mirage buff? Thank you Respawn Entertainment for my life  
> (i main BH but mirage is still a close second)  
> But... I was almost finished with this chapter when I realized to check that Mirage's Ultimate deploys actually 5 decoys, not 10 like I remembered 💀💀💀 but I decided to leave it at ten just because I guess I'm that kind of an author who writes stuff if it fits just one particular scene rather than you know, making it match the actual facts LMAO
> 
> But, I was already taking some writer's freedoms in BH's Ultimate too and other stuff 'cuz I'm trying to build up some kind of realism and length for the Games if they were to operate in real life (matches lasting the whole day and sometimes the night too, if not more - respawn chance for a longer time) like, obviously they would not be some 15-minute shootout as you play on your console/PC. So I'm just doubling, tripling, quadtrupling everything (don't take my terminology knowledge seriously - as you might've noticed from the decoy confusion I'm terrible at math and that applies to terms concerning mathemathics as well XD)
> 
> And... you know the feeling when you're in a match and can't pick up a syringe or shield cell or whtatever and wonder what could possibly take so much space you check your inventory and you have like 5 arc stars, 3 ultimate accelerates and 2 frag grenades because. that happens to me. Every time
> 
> And all the times I can't open the doors with bullets flying to my back because someone died right in front of them and you gotta just kick the shit out of it to get in before you get killed 🤣 one occasion like that actually inspired me for this chapter. It's really really unrealistic, I know, but hey. Fanfiction is called fiction for a reason. Also Bloodhound is just that badass and they don't give a shit about what's realistic and what's not  
>    
> Also for my last note 👀 dark sparks 👀👀 im onto something here


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